


Porn Star Bucky Barnes AU

by Tilltheendwilliwrite



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Romantic Fluff, Shameless Smut, Smut, тэг заменён на Don't copy to another site
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2019-09-14 02:00:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 52,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16903980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tilltheendwilliwrite/pseuds/Tilltheendwilliwrite
Summary: A series of one-shots into the life of porn star Bucky Barnes, porn star Steve Rogers and Fem!Reader.  Warnings are given at the top of each story.





	1. Perfect Just The Way You Are

**Author's Note:**

  * For [This_kitty_has_claws](https://archiveofourown.org/users/This_kitty_has_claws/gifts).



> Warnings: It’s about a porn star… if you need me to tell you it’s NSFW and full Smut, then you probably shouldn’t be here.

## ‘AU Bucky x Reader Fic

 

Setting up the camera, an old-fashioned one with a tape, one that could in no way, shape, or form end up online without someone going to an excessive amount of trouble, you glanced at Bucky, his hair mussed from his hands running through it, white sheet pulled to his waist and hand playing lazily with his covered cock. The smile on his face was full of excitement, his blue-grey eyes shining with lust and desire already.

“I still don’t understand how you can want to do this after you do it all week,” you muttered, wondering if your face was as red as it felt.

“Because I get to make love to you, darlin’,” he smiled, mistaking your mutter on purpose.

Sending him a condescending glare, you flicked the camera to record but could only stand at the foot of the bed holding tight to the lapels of your black robe. “You know what I mean, Buck.”

He shifted to his knees, the sheet falling from him to reveal his massive, full erection. Crawling forward, he knelt before you and took your hands in his. “Baby, porn is one thing, but you, _damn_ , darling. There’s a reason why I need you there with me when I’m filming. You’re the only reason I can get hard and stay that way.”

He brought your hands to his lips, kissed your knuckles while his eyes stayed locked with yours. Bringing them up, he set them on his shoulders and placed his on your hips where he stroked over the rounded flesh.

Sure people thought it strange you were married to a porn star, but Bucky was seriously _talented_ in that department, and you knew what you were getting into when you started dating. He made no excuses for what he did for a living, never lied about it, and had invited you to the set of his current film to watch him in _action_ when things had progressed beyond simple dinners and dates.

Most people didn’t believe you, but the way he was with you in private was so utterly different to how he was on film, you knew without a doubt he _loved_ only you. What he did for a job, it was just sex.

It had gotten to the point in recent years when he would be filming a long scene or making one of the parody movies, he actually asked you to come on set so when there was a break in filming you could help him out by being his _fluffer_.

Fluffer. There was a word you had needed a definition for the first time he’d used it. You were sure your face was as red as it had ever been when he’d explained it was someone who kept him up, hard, and horny while they changed the lighting and shit. You were also certain you’d been red as a damn rose when, the first time he’d coaxed you into being his fluffer, you had done too well of a job. 

The girls had teased you, stating they needed lessons on technique, while the guys had ribbed Bucky something fierce. Buck was known as the S _tamina King_. That you’d caused him to lose his cool had been the highlight of the shoot for them. You had been mortified.

Bucky’s hands continued to wander over your hips and thighs, the part of you, you were most uncomfortable with, but which he seemed to love best. He liked that you weren’t the thin girls of the industry. He liked the fact you had a plump ass and wide hips. He liked the way your larger breasts swung when he had his way with you, how they filled his hands. He had big hands and knew well what to do with them.

But you were body conscious. Casting a glance at the camera, you bit your glossy red lip. “Bucky… still. I don’t know about… that.” You cocked your head toward the camera, its blinking red light indicating it was already filming, seemed like an accusing glare.

“That?” he glanced at the camera before tugging you closer so his chin could rest on your chest. “That’s just for me, baby doll. You sent me those picks and that naughty video that time you couldn’t come to the set, and I nearly lost it a second time.” His hands shifted around to grab handfuls of your ass. “I want it for me. No one will ever see it but us. I swear. I want you to see it, to know there’s one video out there of me with a woman who I _want_ to be with.”

“Buck,” you sighed, feeling your resistance fading with every word.

He knew he had you, his smile said as much. “C’mon, darlin’,” he murmured, releasing your ass to pull slowly at the tie on your robe. “You’re so beautiful. All curvy and gorgeous. And the way you look with my cock inside you… _fuck me_ …” His hips surged, cock hard and heavy against your thigh.

It was futile when he started talking to you like that to say no, and you melted, letting him pull your robe apart. Beneath you had on the lingerie you’d bought special but hadn’t had the guts to wear until tonight. His eyes going wide and pupils growing to fill his iris made it worth every penny.

“Oh, _darlin’_ ,” he rumbled, caressing lace and satin, running his finger along the lace edge on the high cut thigh. “You spoil me.”

Purple and black, the corset made you feel sexy, the boning and panels tucked and tightened where you most wanted it while high cut panties and garter belt held up the sheer black stockings you knew he liked. “I thought… you might like this,” you murmured, running your hand down your side as he pushed the robe from your body.

“Like isn’t the right word. I fucking _love it_!” Big hands again took you by the hips, but this time they dipped into the sides of your underwear, tugging them down and off your body until they fell around your ankles. “Think we can leave those off though. You ain’t gonna need them.”

His fingers were back skating over your mound, sliding between your lips and stroking over them softly, petting the bare lips like he would a kitten.

“Bucky… I…” you moaned when his finger flicked over your clit.

“Don’t be nervous, doll face. It’s just you and me, but we need to do something about this.”

A gentle pat came to your pussy, setting you gasping in both shock and arousal. You weren’t exactly _wet_ in any sense of the word, so you knew exactly what he was talking about fixing. Still, when he manhandled you around, the world spinning as he tossed you efficiently to the bed, a spate of giggles erupted from your throat.

“There’s my girl,” he chuckled, smiling down at you, his dark hair brushing against your cheeks.

Kisses rained over your face as he worked his way down, sucking a mark into your neck, making you arch and moan. His talented fingers found the small snaps on the corset, quickly tugging the cups off, so your breasts were now free and accessible by his mouth.

“Fucking love this,” he murmured into your flesh, kissing, licking and sucking on your breast and nipple. “Great buy, baby. So fucking hot.”

Arching up when he closed his teeth around your nipple, rolling it so gently but so expertly with his teeth you could only moan and mewl, unable to find coherent words. He was so focused on your breasts, the sensitive nipples sending bolts and tugs straight to your core with every pull and suck. You rubbed your thighs together, needing friction, the wet he’d been looking for gathering swiftly on your thighs.

“Bucky!” you moaned, reaching down your body.

His hand caught yours quickly, dragging it back up to press against the pillows. “Uh-un,” he grumbled. “That’s my job.” He lifted up enough to kiss your panting lips, giving you a wink before he disappeared down your body to lift your thighs to his shoulders.

Hands grasped your ass, digging in and leaving fingertip bruises. You could hardly give it a moment’s thought before he was delving in, diving deep, using his tongue on you like a linguistics master. If a tongue could do gymnastics, he would be a gold medal winner. He licked, sucked, swirled in patterns unique to him. The man was a _god_ when it came to oral, and you were soon screaming out your pleasure, flooding his face with your release.

At some point you’d buried your hands in his hair, pressing his mouth closer, demanding more. Flopping back to the bed, you lay panting, looking up at the ceiling. “God… you’re so good at that.”

“Easy when it’s you,” he said with a smile, placing gentle kisses on your exposed flesh as he made his way back to the head of the bed. At your side, he smiled as he lazily played with your breast, thumb rubbing in rhythmic strokes over the puckered flesh.

Rolling to your knees, you pressed him back into the mattress. “My turn,” you whispered, voice soft and sultry.

“Oh, _baby_ , I was hoping you’d say that!” he grinned wiggling back until he was seated against the headboard. “Such pretty red lips need to be wrapped right here.” He gripped his hard cock, holding it at the base, and gave a little waggle to draw your attention.

Not that you needed the help. Shimmying back, you replaced his hand with yours, stroking over his cock with a gentle touch, right to the glands where you twisted lightly, ran your thumb over his slit and spread the precum around on his head.

“Damn…” he sighed, watching you intently. “You make me so hard, darlin’.”

“I know, baby,” you crooned. “You going to keep it together tonight? Or are you going to come in my mouth?”

“Oh no, sweetheart. I want that pussy tonight. It's all wet and sloppy now. I want it stroking my cock.” His fingers tangled in your hair as he guided your head down. “But first I want that mouth. Paint my dick red, (Y/N).”

It was somehow both corny as hell and hot as fuck when he said such things but looked at you with those lust blown eyes.

Resisting just a little, you lowered slowly, watching him as you flicked your tongue over his tip, tasting his essence. Swirling around his head, you paused to slowly tease his frenulum. Soft licks, little flicks, and gentle rolls of your tongue tip over the spot had him groaning and sweating, thighs clenching, but he didn't rush you.

His hand may be in your hair, but it wasn't pressing you downward anymore.

When you did finally sink over him, it was inch by slow inch, blotting your lips with every new bit of skin until your mouth met your fist and his crown nudged the back of your throat. Sliding back up, you left him wet with your saliva, glistening in the low light, his cock surrounded in perfect red rings. They faded from bright red at the crown to nearly a soft pink at the base where you'd run out of lipstick, but it still looked like a lovely striped cock to you.

“Is that painted enough for you?” you asked, smile cocky.

The heat had only grown in his eyes. “Perfect, baby. Now smear it around.”

Smirking, nearly laughing, you closed your lips around him and gave him a blowjob he wouldn't soon forget. He was grunting, toes curled, hand tight in your hair as you worked him over with vigour.

Slicked up with saliva, he finally pulled you away from him, panting and moaning. His balls were sucked up tight, and you knew it would have only been seconds more to have him erupting in your mouth.

“Get up here!” he gasped, tugging on you with one hand while the other reached for a condom.

Straddling his thighs, you held onto his shoulders as you walked your way back up his body. Taking the latex from him, you smoothed it on over him, drawing out the process until he growled softly, “Pushin’ my limits, darlin’.”

“Big baby,” you simpered, lifting yourself up to tease the bulging head of his cock against your lips. Your wetness slicked him up nicely, allowing you to lower yourself over him easily. “Oh _god_ ,” you wheezed softly, his girth making you moan as you sank over him. “Big boy,” you groaned once you were seated, causing him to chuckle.

His fingers slipped beneath the elastic of your garters, snapping them against your thighs. “You feel so good, _moya zvezdochka,_ ” he moaned, the Russian words tumbling thickly off his tongue. Strong fingers wrapped around the lace of your garter belt and rocked you forward on him. “C’mon, sweetheart.”

Using his broad shoulders for leverage, you moved over him, taking the both of you higher with each stroke of his fat cock through your walls. His hands continued to pull, guiding you forward, bringing you down harder on his lap. Moaning deeply, you gave a sharp cry when his mouth closed over your nipple.

The hard flutter of your walls made Bucky moan against your chest. “You gonna come, ain’t you baby?”

“Oh god, Bucky,” you whimpered, mouth dropping open. The sweet tightening of your abdomen, the coil which kept winding in your core, grew stronger with every plunge until you couldn’t hold back any longer and tumbled headlong into ecstasy, crying and moaning as your body convulsed over his.

He groaned along with you, watching your face flush with the power of your orgasm. “That was a good one.”

You nodded slowly as you panted for breath, everything pulsing and quivering.

With a quick roll, he laid you on your back, lifting your knees to his forearms he thrust swiftly and with vigour into your still clenching core. “So wet, baby,” he moaned, slamming into your heat with gradually increasing power.

The wet slap of skin on skin and the smack of his balls against your ass was such a lude sound, but you loved it. “Fuck, Bucky!” you moaned, gazing up at him from behind heavy lashes.

“Touch yourself, (Y/N). Play with those sweet tits.”

Excitement coloured his cheeks, lust clouded his eyes. His muscles flexed, glistening with sweat, his biceps bulging as he dragged you toward him. Each thrust was accompanied with a hard pull which had him bottoming out most amazingly.

Stars were dancing behind your eyes, and you were finding it hard to breathe with how he kept knocking you off kilter. Gasping, you did as he asked, bringing your hands to your breasts where you squeezed and tugged on them.

His teeth found his lip, his eyes never leaving the motion of your hands. “That’s it. Tug on those pretty tits. You like touching yourself for me?”

“Mm,” you nodded, moaning, feeling your body heat with his words, his actions, and the look in his eyes.

“That’s good. I like watchin’ you. So fucking hot, baby.” Letting your legs down, he pressed himself over you, hands to either side of your head as his lips stole kisses from yours.

You were locked too far within the confines of pleasure to fully participate as thrust by thrust he pushed you higher, made your body throb and sing with how well he loved you.

Bucky’s tongue slipped between your lips, twisted and twined in your mouth with deceptive gentleness making you moan. When your arms managed to find his back, nails digging in, palms sliding over sweaty muscles, your knees squeezed against his hips and his mouth skated over your cheek, back to sink his teeth gently beneath your ear.

The orgasm crashed through you like a wave, cresting and breaking on the shore when his teeth found the sensitive spot only he knew about. Your scream was loud and long, ending on a moan and fading to a whimper.

He’d paused above you, breathing heavily, waiting you out and enjoying the rapid squeezing of your walls on his cock. “Fuck, darlin’. You do me so well.”

“I think… that’s the other way… around, Bucky,” you quaked from the aftershocks, clutching at him when he tried to pull away.

He kissed you again, his mouth making love to yours, causing you to soften and allow him to eventually pull away. When you whimpered your denial, he chuckled softly and took you by the waist. “On your belly, doll face.”

Lifting your leg, you rolled over and wiggled your ass in the air. A giggle erupted when he groaned, and you spread your legs as you pushed up on your elbows. “This what you wanted, babe?”

“You know it.” He hummed his approval and laid a solid smack to your bare cheek.

“Bucky!” you yelped, glaring back at him.

“Sorry, darlin’. You’re just so damn sexy. Look at that ass. Fuck I love it!”

He grabbed two handfuls in a way you were well used to before he bent down and buried his tongue in your folds.

The shock of his tongue flicking over your over sensitive clit set you crying out and pushing back against him.

“Eager little thing. _Moya zvezdochka,_ so precious. Such a sweet pussy,” he rumbled against your core.

Then he was gone, and his broad head was pressing back through your walls. You moaned heavily, burying your face into the bed as he stretched you anew and plowed deeper than before.

“Slow and steady, (Y/N) or hard and fast?” he asked gripping your hips tightly.

“ _Fassst_!” you cried, needing him to let loose when he’d been so careful with you so far.

A soft chuckle came from behind you, his hands tightened further - there would be bruises tomorrow, not that you cared - and he took you exactly as you needed, hard and fast with a twist of hips. The move dragged over your sweet spot over and over and over sending whips of pleasure slamming through your body with each thrust.

A keening wail was building up in your chest. Turning your head, you caught a glimpse of Bucky, blue eyes blazing, sweat sliding down his chest and hair curling against his face. His eyes locked with yours, the smile you loved, cocky and crooked, bloomed on his lips, his pace increased, and you were done for.

The wail burst forth on a particularly hard thrust, sending you reeling, screaming out in pleasure so exquisite you had tears escape the corners of your tightly shut eyes.

Even that was not enough to slow Bucky, his pace getting faster as he pressed you further into the bed. The feel of his cock growing, swelling to pull over your still clenching walls had you moaning, whimpering at the intensity, uncertain if you could last much longer with the god of sex, the man with the murder thighs spreading you apart.

A heavy hand landed in the middle of your back, holding you down, keeping you still, forcing you to realize you’d been bucking your hips.

“So close, baby. So close,” he groaned. “Fuck I love you, darlin’!”

“Bucky!” you moaned, nails digging into the bed, nearly shredding the sheets. Another wave of heat was growing in your core, the rapid fire of his hips was becoming sloppy. Then, he tilted his hips further and rubbed hard over your sweet spot. It stole your breath, everything inside you to burst into fireworks, pleasure so potent darkness edged your vision.

A bellow from behind you sounded too far away, hollow almost, the thrusts became hard jerks, shallow bursts of movement before the heavy body collapsed over you and the darkness descended fully.

***

Waking slowly, you became aware of warm hands stroking your bare back, and the rise and fall of the chest beneath your ear. Groaning, you tilted your head to see a smug looking Bucky. “What happened?”

“Well, sweetheart,” he grinned devilishly, “I ain’t ever had a woman pass out from my loving before.”

You jerked in shock. “I did not!”

Laughing softly, he rolled you to your back where he brushed your hair away from your face. “You did, but I think it had more to do with that tight fucking corset you had on.”

His brow arched and your face flamed. “Maybe it was a _little_ tight.”

He gave you a look of censure. “A little?”

“Okay, it was tight. But I looked good in it.”

“That you did. Too bad.”

“Why too bad?” you asked suspiciously.

“I may or may not have… kind of… torn it off when you didn’t seem to be breathing right.”

Blinking, you stared up at him. “Really?” Though it wasn’t exactly cheap, the idea he’d _torn_ you out of it was kind of… _hot_!

He nodded, watching you carefully.

Slinging your arm around his neck, you caressed the thick muscle of his back. “Guess I’ll have to get a new one.”

“Or just come to bed like this,” he crooned once he realized you weren’t mad, taking his hands over your ribs.

“Hm, we’ll see.” You were still pretty self-conscious, but you were working on it. “What now, Buck?”

“Now,” he said with a grin. “We watch the video!”

He looked so much like a puppy waiting for a treat, you couldn’t help but laugh and nod. “You and your _porn_ ,” you teased as he leapt from the bed to get the camera.

“Hey, baby. When you’ve got it, _flaunt_ it!” He wiggled his hips back and forth, causing his cock to wave around.

“Oh, shit! Don’t! Don’t ever do that again!” you roared with laughter. “You’ll never work in the industry ever, ever again!”

Pouting, he collapsed on the bed beside you with a flop. “Way to stroke a guy’s ego.”

“Your ego is perfectly fine. As is the rest of you,” you said, leaning over to kiss his cheek and snatch the camera away. “Let’s see this masterpiece of movie magic.”

“The fabulous stylings of (Y/N) and Bucky.”

“More like _comedy_ stylings,” you snickered, rewinding the tape.

“Baby,” he murmured, kissing your shoulder, “you’re _perfect_ just the way you are.”

Heart melting, you smiled for him. “You’re perfect.”

“No, baby. _You’re_ perfect.” Taking the camera back, he set it off to the side and turned into you.

“I thought you wanted to watch the tape?” you asked confused.

“Why watch the tape, when I can have the real thing,” he said softly, kissing you gently, reverently, and with all the love he had to give.

- ** _The End-_**


	2. The Fluffer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Porn Industry (I make this up as I go), Bucky's foul mouth, Smut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prequel to Perfect Just The Way You Are.

## AU Bucky Barnes x Reader Fic

 

* * *

The flush on your face had to be lobster red by this point. Not just a rosy blush which would bring life to your cheeks, but a red so dark you could feel it burn from the roots of your hair all the way down your chest.

You couldn’t believe you were here, doing this, acting this... _part_ , being part of this lifestyle you’d only come to know because of your boyfriend. Never in your life had you been more fascinated, morbidly so, turned on, and jealous all at the same time.

Bucky - James Buchanan Barnes - was a porn star, but not just any run of the mill guy they brought in because he had stamina and a decent package. No, they actually made films _because_ of Bucky. He was charismatic, friendly, funny, charming, and had one _hell_ of a talent when it came to the _physical_ aspect of his job.

You’d been together now for almost a year. You knew right from the start what he did for a living, and, though it had been hard at first, upsetting to you sometimes, he’d eventually convinced you to come onto the set with him to see what he meant when he said it was only acting, and far more clinical than you’d realized.

He’d been right, of course. The way they all treated it as just another shoot, another day at the office, one more take to get the angles right, had surprised you. Even the girl he’d been working with, a pretty redhead named Wanda, had been more than welcoming, kind and sweet when she’d come over to introduce herself and shake your hand.

She’d talked about how lucky you were to have a guy like Bucky, and how nice it was that you understood it was _just a job_. More often than not it was people within the industry who got together as people outside it could often be… judge-y or have a skewed view on what it meant to be with a _porn star_. Her own significant other was an ex-actor turned label executive who was working on helping clean things up a little, and stave off the stereotypes associated with porn.

Vision was a busy man, but he was usually on set when Wanda was working. He and Bucky had known each other for years, worked together before, and felt secure in knowing Wanda was in good hands.

The whole speech had left you breathless when she’d smiled, flipped back her hair, and wandered off to get ready.

But today was different. Sure you’d _watched_ Bucky do his thing before, you’d even found it relatively hot - who were you kidding? It was hot as hell - but this was the first time you were actively participating.

Not in the movie! Good god, they couldn’t pay you enough to strip down in public no matter how much Bucky whined. You were nowhere near comfortable enough with your body for that! Thick thighs, wide hips, and a pillow-y ass all left you feeling a lot self-conscious, so much, so you often wonder what it was Bucky saw in you when he had all these sleek, fit, well-endowed women around him.

They were currently filming another parody, a porn mockery of a Marvel film, Captain America: The Winter Soldier and Bucky had been tasked with playing opposite the leading man. So far the working title of the film was Captain Assmerica: The Winter Smoulder. It made you snort every time it came up, though you tried _very_ hard not to do so in front of Steve. After all, he was Bucky’s best friend and playing Captain Assmerica.

The blue-eyed blond was the nicest, sweetest, most wholesome man you’d ever met, but on set, he turned into one dirty little shit. He had a _mouth_ on him! Some of the things which came out of it when he was filming would have made the devil himself blush.

You opted out of watching those scenes, mostly because you had a hard time looking him in the eye after seeing him _in action_. He was as well-endowed as Bucky, and evidently just as good at using what had been gifted to him to make his living.

The reason for your appearance on set, something you did on rare and random occasions, was because they were filming the big _action_ sequence in which there were multiple partners, multiple camera angles, and multiple takes to be had. It took time to move things around, and with downtime came flagging… _spirits_.

Bucky had asked you to come and be his fluffer. Fluffer. The word had set you blinking when he’d first used it until he’d explained it was the person who kept him up, hard and excited between takes. It usually wasn’t a big deal as he just thought about you and he was rock hard for as long as it took, but the production crew was insisting he picked someone in case he needed them. All he wanted, however, was you.

Big blue-grey eyes had been so earnest, so hopeful, so _pleading_ with that look, and that face, and that smile you’d been unable to say anything but yes.

Still, now that you were here, you were so damn nervous you weren't sure how you were supposed to help him when all you wanted to do was run and hide.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” Natasha called out, striding toward you.

“Natasha,” you smiled, happy to see someone you knew before you got too far into the studio.

The petite redhead was always nice, but something about the way she walked and the way she carried herself had you wondering if she was ex-military. She was head of productions, working with Clint Barton as director, under the label of Stark Films, and greeted you warmly with a hug before linking her arm through yours.

“Bucky told us to expect you, but he didn’t say you were going to look like a deer in the headlights when you got here.”

“Haha,” you groaned. “Is it that bad?”

“Sweetie, you look like a woman ready to bolt for the nearest exit. Why so nervous? You’re not on camera.”

She looked at you with those sharp green eyes, seeming to see right to your very soul. “I’m just… not…”

“Not what, hun?” she asked, slowing to a stop when she turned to frown at you.

“Not one of them. Glamorous and sexy.” You rubbed your hand over your thigh, feeling inadequate all over again.

“Don’t be stupid. Bucky loves you! He wouldn’t have asked for this otherwise.” Rolling her eyes, she tugged you down the hall by the sleeve.

“Sometimes I don’t know why that is,” you muttered low, hoping she wouldn’t catch it. You nearly swore aloud when she stopped dead.

“What?” She turned on you, eyes wide with shock. “Why would you say that!?”

The blush which had mostly calmed down was once again burning in your face when you cringed away from her anger.

Thrusting her hands through her hair, Nat growled out something in a language you weren’t familiar with.

“Did you just swear at me?” you asked.

“Yes!” she barked. Snatching you by the wrist, she hauled your ass down a hall opposite of the one she’d been leading you toward.

“Where are we going?” you asked meekly, not wanting to piss her off more.

“Wardrobe! Hair! Makeup! You are getting the full work over, they will have it done in twenty minutes, and then you will go and do what Bucky needs done so he can finish filming this damn movie!” She muttered some more on her way before biting out, “ _Krasivyye i pyshnyye i do sikh por ne vidyat!” *_

“Um…?” you breathed but closed your mouth when she shot you a hard glare.

***

True to her word, Natasha had you clothed and coiffed in under twenty. The makeup took a little longer when you fought them on the fake lashes. Bucky had a bit of a kink when it came to forties era fashion. The wavy hair, red lips, and pinup girl style just… did it for him, so you gave into their urging on the outfit.

The dress was red with white polka dots over a flared skirt falling only to mid-thigh, while the top cupped your breasts, lifting them up and together thanks to the halter neckline. White stockings covered your legs, held up by the clips on the garter belt at your waist, and you prayed to any god who might be listening you didn’t fall off the six-inch red patent leather platform pumps you were deathly scared to walk in.

When Natasha rushed back in, her face lit up. “Hell yeah!” she crowed, eyes sparkling with something wicked. “You’re going to knock him dead.”

Glancing at the mirror, you couldn’t quite believe the woman standing there was you until the robe Nat threw at you hit you in the chest.

“Put that on unless you want all the people on set to gawk at you, or hit on you, or beg you to participate,” she smirked when you blushed, “and I’ll take you round to a private area just off set to wait.”

Five minutes later you were seated in a curtained off area, waiting, listening to the sounds of the busy movie set, wondering if you should take off the robe. The room was little more than walls with a couch, table, and small sink, but at least it was private, well, the door was a thick, heavy curtain, but it was private enough. When Bucky rushed through the curtain a few minutes later, your mouth fell open at what he was wearing. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah?” he asked, cocky smirk present.

The black vest buckled across his chest, black cargo pants encased his thighs, but it was the shining silver arm and heavy eyeliner you goggled at. Should you be so turned on by that?

“I don’t know, baby? Should you?”

“Oh fuck, I said that out loud?” you asked, eyes darting from his to the arm and back.

“Yes you did,” he snickered, motioning you to stand up. “Nat said she kitted you out. I wanna see!”

Excited puppy eyes - which didn’t quite fit the persona of masked assassin - and an eager smile on his face weren’t to be denied. You stood cautiously to your feet and let the robe fall. It hit the floor about the same time as Bucky’s jaw. 

“Holy shit,” he wheezed, stepping closer.

Blue-grey eyes blew out, pupils filling the center while you watched the lust take over. “I was really nervous,” you admitted quietly. “Nat was trying to help me out.”

“Doll… you ain’t got _nothing_ to be nervous about. You’re doing a bang up job already.” He took you by the waist and drew you in, your shoes bringing you level with his mouth. “If I kiss you, will that smear off?”

“Maria in makeup said no,” you whispered, suddenly much less worried about whether you should be there or not when the hard length of his erection dug into your stomach. “Bucky,” you moaned, wrapping your arm around his neck and running your fingers up his arm.

There was a sharp inhale, almost a growl when his mouth came down to savage yours. It was vicious, a clashing of tongues and teeth while he rocked his hips into yours. His hands grabbed your ass, lifted and turned to drop you on the table to the left where he stepped between your thighs. Ripping his mouth away, he stepped back to take his hands, one flesh and one metal, over your body. “Fuck that’s so hot. You look like something outta my wildest fantasies. You’re so good to me, sweetheart, to do this for me. I need you here for this.”

“Yeah?” you crooned, biting your lip, watching his eyes latch onto the movement. “Am I doing the job… _soldier_?”

“Too fucking well, darlin'.” His hand closed around your wrist, leading it to press your palm to his suddenly very tight pants.

“Big boy,” you moaned, the wetness between your thighs growing.

“Babydoll-”

“Barnes! Onset!”

“Fuck you, Rogers,” he muttered to the man behind the curtain before kissing your jaw. “I’ll be back. We’ve got a new guy. He either blows his load too soon, or can’t get up and stay up, but he won’t take the little blue pills to help out. Annoying, prick.”

“What’s his name?” you asked out of curiosity.

“Rumlow. Dude’s a dick, and I don’t mean that literally. If he makes it in this industry it will be a miracle,” he grumbled.

“Jesus, Buck!” Steve growled, dragging open the curtain. “How long’s it take to get… holy shit,” he whispered, staring at you with wide blue eyes. “(Y/N),” he smirked. “You joinin’ the cast there, darlin?”

“Out, you shit!” Bucky bellowed, shoving him forcibly through the curtain. “Stop hitting on my girl!”

“When you leave him, (Y/N), remember me!” Steve hollered making you chuckle.

He had also looked mighty fine in his suit, more than fine, but you weren’t about to say so to Bucky when he glanced a final time at you and hummed in appreciation. “I’ll be back, baby. Don’t go nowhere.”

You waved him out, rolling your eyes. Where the hell were you going to go? Least you’d managed to keep your clothes and purse with you, giving you access to your phone. You had no idea how long it would be before he was back, but from the sounds of things, they were underway.

***

Three lives into Bubble Witch he was back, storming through the door with an angry stride and winging the curtain out of his way. “Fucking amateur,” he growled, dropping to his knees before you on the couch.

Tossing your phone aside, you made no mention of the murder strut which had tightened your core muscles when he’d come through the door. His vest was gone, button undone on his pants. The arm you’d admired went straight to the shoulder where prosthetic scars had been applied.

“Oh!” you gasped softly, reaching out to touch them gently. “That looks like it would have hurt in real life.”

His hands went from your knees up your thighs, spreading them open so he could jerk you right to the edge of the couch. “Remind me to show you the _actual_ movie one day,” he murmured, voice muffled from where he’d buried it in your cleavage.

Moaning softly, you asked, “Is this what you normally do with your fluffer?”

He shook his head, almost motorboating. “Nah. Hand stuff, usually. Lately, I’ve been yanking my own chain to those pictures we took.”

“Bucky! You said you deleted them!” Your scolding ended on a moan when his tongue swept beneath the low cut edge of your dress and caught your nipple.

“But you look so good, baby. So sexy and blissed out from fucking all night. And your hair was all over, wild and shit. _God_ , you're so gorgeous!” His hands shoved the skirt of your dress up only to still when he got to the tops of the white stockings. “Jesus…” he wheezed. “You are trying to kill me.”

“You like?”

“I fucking love ‘em!”

The garters and stockings made you feel remarkably sexy, the way he looked at you in them even more so. You made a mental note to add them to your repertoire of lingerie items. “What else do you love?” you teased, tracing your nail over his chest.

“I love how you look like sin sittin’ here, waiting on me.” Big hands cupped your breasts, squeezed and kneaded. “I love how all I gotta do is look at you, and I’m so damn hard I could burst.”

Slipping your hand into the waistband of his pants, you gripped his cock, slick with something and froze. “Bucky?”

“From the condom, babe. Promise,” he said, sinking his metal fingers into your carefully crafted hair to drag you in and kiss you with a frenzy.

You stiffened, but when he slipped his tongue into your mouth, he tasted only of Bucky.

“Baby, relax. They have me wearing this mask thing. I’d never do anything to make you uncomfortable.”

Gripping him tighter, you stroked him with a firm hand, adding little twists and tugs. “Okay, Bucky. I believe you.” You went back to kissing him, gentle sips and licks of his lips while his hands roamed, sliding beneath your dress and over your underwear. You moaned into his mouth when you realized it was the metal fingers rubbing against you.

“I can’t tell with this on, but I bet you’re wet, ain’t that right, darlin? Are you soaking through those panties?” he whispered against your lips.

“Yeah,” you sighed, spreading your thighs further apart. “Feels so good, Bucky. How did you get that arm on? It’s so tight.”

“Lots of lube, baby. So much lube,” he growled, nipping your lip.

“Barnes!” came the shout through the curtain.

This time it was you who groaned, “Fuck off, Rogers!”

Steve chuckled but didn’t stick his head in this time. “No can do, doll! Let’s roll, Buck!”

“Is he always so chipper?” you asked grumpily when Bucky’s hand disappeared.

“Yeah, the fucker.” Giving you a wink, he bussed a quick kiss to your cheek before heading away.

Sighing, you flopped back on the couch, slumped in the most unladylike way, and reached for your less than satisfying game of Bubble Witch.

***

The third time he marched through the door, you’d been ready for him because the shouting which had come from the set had been louder than the fucking.

“Bucky?”

“Asshole Rumlow. He got a little too vigorous with one of the girls, knocked down a part of the set. Only going to take a few minutes to fix.” His hair was beginning to curl at the edges, sweat gleaming on his chest and back. The low slung towel was barely hiding anything from you, what with the way it tented in the front.

“C’mere,” you beckoned. The makeup around his eyes was some serious waterproof stuff as it hadn’t smeared a bit, leaving him looking like a masked vigilante come to ravage you for getting in his way.

“Not going to take long, babe.” Still, he sauntered forward to stand before you, allowing your hands to drop the towel from his waist.

“Damn,” you sighed reverently, unable to look away from his beautiful cock. Reaching for the cloth you’d wet and warmed, finding a pile of them beneath the sink, you cleaned him off quickly, not wanting to deal with the same slightly slimy mess as last time.

“Whatcha doing, darlin'?”

Taking him in hand, you stroked him firmly, root to tip, eyes locked with his the entire time. “My job, Bucky.” Leaning forward, you licked the tip, swirled your tongue around it, letting your lips just contact the end like you were savouring a lollipop before sinking over him with a wet slurp.

“Fuck… _meee_!” he moaned, hands thoroughly messing your hair when both delved in to guide you over him.

Humming contentedly, you cupped his sack, fingers gentle on his sensitive balls. Rubbing with your tongue, you made sure and caught all the pressure points you knew of, the ones which made him wild, loving the way he was coming undone.

“Shit! Fuck! Stop, baby!” he jerked back, pulling from your mouth, squeezing the base of his cock and giving his balls a firm tug. Eyes tightly shut and jaw clenched, he fought back his impending orgasm. When his eyes opened again, they were hazy, drunk on the near release and the pleasure you’d been giving him. “Just about did me in, sweetheart.”

“Oops,” you giggled.

“Barnes!” This time a hand came through the heavy curtain, condom between two fingers which Steve flicked your general direction. “Help him out, doll face!”

“I can put on my own damn condom, you shit!” Bucky snarled, stalking toward the packet ass flexing. Cock bouncing. Thighs contracting.

You had never been so turned on. “Let me,” you whispered, freezing Bucky in place.

Brow arching, he eyed you for a moment. “Yeah, baby doll? You want to do this?” His smirk was the smuggest you’d ever seen it.

At the moment, you didn’t care. “Yes, I really do.” Sliding from the sofa, you watched him as you crawled slowly across the floor toward him, his eyes widening, cock straining in his fist when you came to a stop before him.

Skimming your hands up his thighs, you sighed with how fantastic he looked. The dark makeup made him look so mysterious, so sexy, you almost wished he’d left the mask on. You wanted to see it, see him looking dangerous and desirable all in one. “You still in the mask, hun?”

“Yeah, why?”

Looking up, you smiled seductively. “When you come back… leave it on.” His mouth dropped open, cheeks flushing red, causing your smile to shift into a much wickeder one.

Taking the packet from his lax fingers, you tore it open with your teeth. You’d happened across a passage in a book you’d been reading a while back which had talked about what you were about to attempt. It was new for you, you’d never done it before, but if it worked, you would likely blow Bucky’s mind.

Placing the condom between your lips, you looked up, watched his eyes widen as you leaned forward, pressing the condom to his tip. Going slow so as not to screw up, you gently worked it down his length, unrolling and covering him in one until the head of his cock nudged the back of your throat.

It didn’t taste that great, but Bucky’s reaction made it all worthwhile.

His thighs shook with the strain, teeth ground together. His hand fisted your hair, holding you there while you hummed gently in the back of your throat. With a strangled cry, he thrust forward once, just a flex of hips, but you felt the heat burst into the condom even through the latex.

Pulling away with a gasp, you stared in horror at what you’d done. “Oh shit!” you squealed.

“Fuck… baby,” he sighed, falling to his knees with you and resting his head on your shoulder. “That was the best, most intense mouth work I’ve ever had. I don’t even care…”

“Bucky!” Steve bellowed. “Are you _ever_ coming?”

He chuckled against your chest. “Yeah, Steve… about that.”

The curtain swept back, and Steve looked from you to Bucky to the red washing through your entire body and grinned like a maniac. “Holy fuck! She broke the _stamina king_! And in under three minutes!”

He disappeared from view, and you shuffled back from Bucky, face red, eyes burning, utterly mortified. “I’m so sorry,” you whispered, grabbing the towel from the floor and handing it to him, then sinking onto the couch and hanging your head.

Taking the condom from his slowly softening cock, he tied it off and threw it out. Wrapping the towel around his waist, he dropped to his knees before you a second time.

“Hey, now? What’s this?” he brushed away the escaping tear from your cheek.

“I guess I make a poor fluffer.”

He laughed, a hearty belly laugh which usually made you smile, but not today. “Oh, darlin! This kind of thing _happens_ sometimes. It ain’t that you're a poor fluffer, it's you’re _too_ good! You had me losing my load so damn fast. Fuck you’re amazing!” Getting up, he flopped down on the couch at your side and collected you close, kissing the top of your head. “I love you so much, baby. You’re so good for me. All I can think about anymore are those lips and eyes, your thighs wrapping around me and how nice it would be to sink into your soaking wet pussy. But I love all the little things you do, too. How you support me with this,” he flicked out his hand, “enough to come and do this for me when I know how hard it was for you. You’re so precious. So perfect. I just love you with everything I am.”

“Bucky,” you sighed, turning your face into his chest, eyes wet again for a whole new reason.

“You’re everything I want and need. You see me, (Y/N), exactly as I am. I’m never gonna love someone the way I do you.”

“I love you, too, Bucky,” you said, blinking back more tears.

He shifted, reaching behind him and the couch, ripping something free which had been taped there. “Look, so… I was gonna do this later, once filming was done for the day… but… we have time… and, uh…”

Pushing upright, you frowned first at him, then the box in his hand. “Buck?”

“I suck at this,” he sighed, slipping his arm from behind you to settle back to the floor on one knee. “Babe… (Y/N), I love you. Will you marry me?”

The box popped open, and you gasped, staring at the elegant square cut diamond ring sitting inside. “Bucky…” you whispered, awed and shocked.

“I knew when you said you’d come here today, when you accepted every part of me for who I am, that I couldn’t let you go. So please, baby, say yes?”

Nodding for the nearly naked man sitting at your feet, you gasped out, “YES!” as tears rained from your eyes. “Yes, yes, yes!” you repeated as he slipped the ring on your finger. It didn’t surprise you he’d done this now, here, not with the people he considered his family only rooms away, it didn’t even surprise you he’d done so virtually naked. It was, somehow, fitting. It was just right.

Cheers and whooping could be heard beyond the curtain.

Bucky lurched to his feet, catching you up in his arms as he swung you around. “She said yes!!”

People in robes or towels piled into the room, everyone wishing you congratulations.

A laughing Steve punched Bucky in his shoulder. “With a girl that talented, no wonder you want to keep her.”

“Shut up, you punk!” Bucky rolled his eyes.

“Indeed,” Wanda giggled, hugging you close. “You will have to tell us your secrets, yes? You brought the king to his knees. I wish to know how!”

Blushing beet red, you shook your head. “I just… nothing special.”

Dragging you out of the circle of women, Bucky hugged you tightly. “Everything about you is special. You’re absolutely the most perfect woman for me.”

Everyone _awwed_ when he kissed you until Clint the director cleared his throat.

“If the love-in is over, and quick-draw has recovered, let’s get this finished so the newly engaged can go celebrated!” Sending you a wink, the wedding band flashing on his own finger, Clint walked out, giving Natasha a firm pat to the behind she returned with a smirk, the two of them partners in more than just films.

Last to leave was Steve who hugged you tightly, causing your blush to warm with his towel-clad state. “Congratulations, doll face.”

“Thanks, Steve.” You pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, snickering when he blushed.

“And just remember, babe. Offer’s still open, if you dump the jerk, come find me.” He grinned on the way out the door.

“Fucking _punk_!” Bucky snarled.

Giggling, you shook your head. “He’s so funny.”

“Funny for you maybe,” Bucky grumbled as he gathered you back to his chest. “Well, baby. Guess we should try this again with a little less vigour.”

Pulling the towel free from his hips, you wrapped your fingers around him. “Yes, sir,” you crooned against his lips, beginning to work him up again. “Whatever you say, soldier.”

“Fuck I love you,” he sighed, breath already shifting into soft pants with your gentle touch.

“Love you too, Buck. Always.” Kissing him gently, you knew no matter what, you always would. “Oh, and Bucky?”

“Yeah, baby?“

“Next time... remember the mask.”

His answer was a heady moan and wild thrust of hips.

**_-The End-_ ** ****

_Natasha’s Russian - *Beautiful and curvy and still can't see it!_


	3. Waxing Gone Wrong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another in the pornstar!Bucky series. This is a mostly true story, something which happened to a friend of mine. I nearly wet myself when she told it to me, so I hope you all get the same enjoyment out of it as I did. As I have always said, anything you tell me can, and likely will be used in a fic at some point in the future.  
> Warnings: The painful truth about what some women go through when waxing. Language.

## AU Bucky Barnes x Reader Fic

 

* * *

You didn't know what had ever possessed you to think you could get away with trying something of this magnitude. It had been a ridiculous thought, a horrible idea, and asking for trouble all wrapped up in one.

But the other girls did it, and Wanda and Natasha had sworn up and down it really wasn't that hard. Just spread on the wax, rub on the linen strip, pull the skin taught, and tear. Easy peasy, right?

Wrong.

And not a little wrong, but dead freaking wrong.

Now you were stuck, panicking, in pain, and at your wits end.

It had started out innocently enough. Bucky's birthday was coming, and you'd decided, after a casual yet somehow still embarrassing conversation with Wanda and Nat, one the bests gifts you could give your husband was a hair free nether region for his all-access pass. You'd never done it before, and while you kept everything tidied up down there, this was something you knew he'd enjoy. Nothing worse than hair in your mouth when you were going down on someone, something you'd never had to worry about as Bucky was usually quite waxed.

And hey, if the boys could do it, how hard could it be?

However, there was no way, not one iota in hell, were you going to subject yourself to the mortification to come with _going_ to have your bits waxed, deciding instead to do it yourself.

That was your first mistake.

As Bucky was away for a few days, due to return on the big day, you'd decided it was the perfect time to give it the old college try.

The instructions seemed simple enough. Place tub in microwave, warm in short bursts, stirring after each burst of heat until wax was a smooth, honey-like consistency. Apply a liberal amount of wax to area to be epilated, apply linen strip rubbing firmly in the direction of hair growth, pull skin taut and remove the wax strip.

It all sounded so easy... in theory.

Needing to be close to the microwave as you were uncertain how quickly the tub of wax cooled, you'd hauled an old canvas camping stool, one with a low back, into the kitchen. Not knowing how messy it would be, you didn't want to get wax on your good kitchen chairs.

Wrapped in only a robe, alone in the house with the doors locked and window drapes pulled, you’d still blushed crimson even though you knew no one would ever see you.

Once everything was ready, the wax honey-ish, the strips of linen laid out with drill sergeant-like precision, sticks to apply the wax at the ready, and a garbage can for easy disposal of the dastardly unwanted hair, you'd dropped your robe on the kitchen island, and settled into the camp chair.

There was just one problem. How did you see to get wax on the naughty bits without slopping it everywhere?

After a little deliberating, and a touch of repositioning, you'd arrived at a very unladylike final state. Slouched and leaning back precariously on your old camp stool, you were doing a perverted form of Pilates ‘V’ sit with legs spread wide and both heels propped up, one on the kitchen counter the other on the island.

God save you, if anyone had seen you like that, you'd have died right then and there.

A rosy tomato red flush covering your body, you checked the wax, loaded the first stick, and gingerly applied it to your lady bits, leaving a wide swath right along your labia.

“Hot, hot, hot!”

Perhaps you'd gotten it too warm.

Hissing as the heat disappeared into a not necessarily unpleasant warmth, you reached for the linen strip, managed to clench your abs a second time, and got it applied to the sticky wax.

Rubbing firmly, you contorted back into a pretzel, sweat already collecting on your brow, pulled your skin tight, and ripped the strip off.

“Mother fucker!” you screamed, agony searing through you once innocent, happy, pain-free bits, now vowing revenge on you and cursing the first of your children to be bald so they would never know such pain.

Once you managed to stop howling, and the white had receded from your slowly clearing vision, you brought the accursed wax strip up, ready to claim victory on the forest of hairs you'd just plucked from your still throbbing center, only to see… nothing.

“What the hell?”

Not only was the strip void of hair, it was also void of wax.

That couldn't possibly be right! You'd followed the steps. Warm. Apply. Rub. Pull! It wasn't rocket science for heaven sake!

Pulling yourself upright, you glared down at your furry bush in fury. The wax which had been lovely and warm was now tacky but mostly solid.

Well… shit!

Glaring at the box on the counter, you swiftly reread the instructions. Maybe you'd used too much wax? Perhaps if you applied a slightly thinner coat. Besides, you needed to get both hair and wax off somehow. You couldn't have a half waxed beaver for Bucky's birthday.

Applying a slightly less thick coat of wax to the opposite side, you repeated step three, rubbing with a touch more vigour, making sure it was really stuck down this time. By the time you were done, you felt like you'd done a thousand sit-ups with how hard you been clenching your abs. Panting, nearly gasping for breath, deciding this for sure counted as your exercise for the day, you braced yourself, and ripped off the second strip with as much strength as you could muster.

This time the screaming amounted to high pitched, inventive swearing in which you and your vagina vowed to find and castrate whomever it was who thought waxing down there would be a good idea.

Once your vision returned to normal, you lifted your hand, filled with triumph for surely you'd succeeded. Nothing which hurt that much could be anything less.

The blank and empty linen strip mocked you with your failure.

“Son of a bitch!”

Angry, and not thinking clearly, wondering how the hell you were going to get the wax off, you dropped your feet to the floor where the sudden suck and seal had you realizing you'd just waxed your lips together.

A pitiful whimper left your lips when you contemplated giving up and call Bucky. He waxed, he'd know how to get the stuff off, but no. No, you were a big girl, and besides, the shit would never let you live it down.

Screwing up your courage and stomping on the growing panic - what happens if you have to pee and it's all sealed over? - you made a second painful discovery when you tried to stand and found yourself glued to the canvas stool.

The moan welling up in your throat came out a defeated whimper. Peeling yourself carefully from the seat, you grabbed your robe, the box the wax came in, and your phone, and headed for the bathroom.

Each pussyfooting step was a new level of hell as wax pulled against hair, turning your stride into a weird sliding shuffle. By the time you reached the bathroom, you'd decided castration was too good for the idiot who'd invented the torture device known as a _Brazilian_ and had decided flaying them open or making them use their own godforsaken product was the best punishment for their crimes.

Running the tub as warm as you could stand, you slowly climbed in, hoping against hope it would melt the wax and allow you to escape this fiasco of an attempt to do something outside the box.

When you sank to the bottom of the tub though, the warming effect of the water had a completely opposite effect. The wax melted just enough to have you vacuum sealing your pussy to the porcelain.

Bursting into hysterical laughter, it was either that or tears, you groped for your phone and called Wanda. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and you sure as shit weren't calling Bucky about this _now._ This was going with you to the grave.

When the phone continued to ring, you hung up and called Nat only to have the same problem. Neither woman was answering. In a move born of panic, you dialled a third.

“Hey, dollface-”

“I waxed myself together! What do I do?”

Silence, then Steve murmured, “You want to elaborate on that for me, doll face?”

The tears finally tipped over. “I wanted to surprise Bucky for his birthday, and Wanda and Nat said it wasn't that hard, so I tried to self-wax my… um… you know, and I followed the instructions, but then the wax didn't come off, and oh my god does that hurt, so I tried it again but it still didn't work, and when I put my legs down… _everything sealed together, and now I'm stuck to the bathtub!”_ you wailed, crying in earnest.

“Hey, hey, hey! C’mon, darlin'. It's not that bad.”

“Yes,” you hiccupped, “it is!”

“C’mon, sweetheart,” Steve crooned, trying to calm you down, “we can fix this.”

“We can?” you sniffled, wiping your eyes.

“Sure we can.”

Ten minutes later after the most embarrassing conversation you'd ever had, you found out the packet of lotion inside the box was wax remover. Steve walked you through the least painful way of getting the wax off, and you'd sworn him to absolute, utter secrecy for the remainder of his natural life, or you promised to kick Captain Assmerica’s butt.

You were reasonably certain once he hung up, he'd go laugh hysterically for three or four days.

It was just as you were going to make a cup of tea to calm your nerves that the doorbell rang.

Swinging it open, you flushed instantly crimson. “Steve? What-”

“Get your coat, (Y/N).” Leaning against the door frame, he smirked a shit eating grin.

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

Frowning, trying not to die of embarrassment and kind of wishing a crater would open to swallow you up, you got your coat and purse, stuffed your feet in some shoes, and followed him to his car.

“Hey,” he said softly, lifting your chin so you could see his kind blue eyes. “Shit happens, doll face. I'm glad you called me, trusted me with something like this. It means a lot.”

Blushing for a whole new reason you nodded. “I did try Wanda and Nat first.”

“Ouch!” he gasped, grabbing for his chest. “Way to knock a guy down a peg! Two! Two pegs!”

Laughing at his antics, you hugged him around the waist. “Thanks, Steve. I know I can count on you.”

He placed a kiss on the top of your head as he hugged back. “Any time, doll. For anything. Now, c’mon. Get in the car.”

Once you were both inside and underway, you continued to stare at the side of his face. “Well?”

“Well what?” he smirked.

“Well, where are we going, Steven?”

“Ooh, that's an annoyed schoolmarm voice if I've ever heard one.”

Smacking his arm, you glared at him. “Why won't you tell me?”

“Surprise,” he quipped, weaving through traffic.

With a roll of eyes, you turned to pout. “Big bully.”

“I thought you liked surprises?”

“Have you met me?” you asked.

“Yeah, a couple of times.”

You smacked him again.

“Ow! Hey! No fisticuffs with the driver!”

Snorting out a laugh you shook your head. “I swear there's times I think you and Buck were born in the wrong era.”

Steve only grinned and shrugged as he pulled into a strip mall and parked. “Out.”

Getting from the vehicle, you eyed him suspiciously. “Steven.”

“There's that schoolmarm again.”

“Steven Grant Rogers!” you barked as he collected your elbow and half walked half dragged you toward the spa.

“Hey! You want to surprise Bucky or not?”

Teeth clicking shut, you went back to pouting. “Yes.”

“Then you have the professionals do it for you.” Leaning closer, he murmured against your ear, “I'd never let an amateur stand-in for my scenes at work.”

“Pervert,” you grumbled, ignoring his laughing eyes.

“They had space, it's all taken care of, and I'll wait for you right here.” He pointed at the comfy looking chairs just inside the door.

“Fine!” huffing, you followed the woman smiling at you. “And, Steve?”

“Yeah, doll face?”

“Thanks.”

“Is that a big enough thanks to say I went in on his gift?”

“Get your own gift, you cheapskate!”

His laughter followed you down the hall.

**-The End-**


	4. When I Saw YOu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another offering in this series. A look into Bucky and Reader’s first meeting. Enjoy!  
> Warnings: Fluff, a little angst, some fat shaming, self-doubt

## AU Bucky Barnes x Reader Fic

 

* * *

It was late evening on a hot summer night, and you and Bucky were gathered around the pool with the family of misfits you’d come to love. Vision and Wanda, Clint and Natasha, Tony and Pepper, and Steve were gathered to laugh and drink and eat, celebrating the anniversary of your marriage to Bucky. It had been a good evening, and a fun party, loud with laughter and shouting as the guys all competed to impress their ladies.

All except Steve who’d come alone.

You side-eyed him, laughing with Bucky, wondering if you should talk to your husband about setting the blond up with a girl you knew from work, but even as you thought it, you dismissed it. You also rejected the pang of insecurity the idea of seeing Steve with someone gave you.

“Hey, (Y/N)?” Tony called out, pulling you away from your distressing thoughts.

“Yeah?”

“How did you and Barnes meet?” he asked, causing Natasha to snicker.

“Oh… I don’t think-” you tried to protest only to have her speak over the top of you.

“Oh, I think we all need to hear that story!” Natasha laughed, having heard it once before.

“Bitch,” you mumbled and went to pour another margarita. If you were going to tell this story, you were going to need the liquid courage. “It all started when I got dumped by my ex…”

* * *

You were smiling through gritted teeth at the man standing before you, trying desperately not to cry. You couldn't believe this shit. “So you brought me all the way out here to what? Break up with me because your skank ex-girlfriend made a snide comment? You couldn't just be civil and break up with me at home?”

“It's not like that,” Adrian sighed, his face pinched. “I didn't want you to make a scene.”

You nodded slowly, anger rushing through you. “So you bring me out here to my favourite place just to taint it with the memory of our break up. You're a real gentleman, Adrian.”

“Hey! I wasn't planning this. It just happened. Pamela got me thinking and… she's right.”

“Ex… excuse me?” you gasped. He couldn't possibly mean he agreed with the blonde bimbo.

“Well, I mean… ugh,” he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Do I really have to say it, (Y/N)?”

“Yes, you really do,” you snapped.

“You’re fat,” he bit out causing you to recoil like he’d slapped you.

You’d expected it. Really, you’d kind of asked for it, but you hadn’t expected him to go right for your throat like that. You’d thought _husky_ possibly _big boned_ would come from his mouth, after all, it wasn’t like he’d been complaining when he’d been groaning between your thighs _not_ getting you off, but he’d gone right for the jugular with that most hated word. “I see.”

He looked almost contrite for a split second before he pulled himself up tall and dusted off the shoulder of his jean jacket like he was some kind of self-important jackass. Oh, wait. He was a self-important jackass. A conceited one. One you’d been dating for three months.

Honestly, his lack of subtlety and disregard for another’s feelings shouldn’t have surprised you at all. He’d been an on again, off again jerk since your first date, but it had been so long since you’d had a boyfriend you’d forgotten what it was like to have a warm body in your bed and someone to share your life with. You’d overlooked his flaws in favour of no longer being lonely, only now, here you were, suffering for it because he was trying to avoid a scene.

“You know what, Adrian? You’re an asshole, you’ve got a tiny dick, and never once got me off the entire three months we were together.” You didn’t raise your voice, preferring to keep things between the two of you, but unwilling to let him walk away unscathed. “I hope you have another way of getting home, cause I’m out.” You turned to walk away, determined not to let him ruin one of your favourite places and favourite times a year when he called out your name.

“And maybe if you weren’t so fat it wouldn’t be so much work. Pamela is right. Eat a carrot once in a while, go for a jog, and maybe you’ll find some poor sucker who’ll actually want to fuck you.”

Gasps rose from those people who were closest, some women covering their children’s ears and ushering them away, but you refused to dignify his accusation with an answer and walked on, biting your lip to keep it from quivering.

It was nothing new. You’d been called every name under the sun for fat since you were fifteen years old. Hefty, husky, fluffy, big, large, wide load, fat ass, you’d heard them all, and each one hurt just as much today as it did back then. You weren’t a supermodel. You weren’t stick thin or sleek, or svelt, or any of the words applied to the ideal woman nowadays, but were you the nine thousand pound rhino Adrian had just made you feel like? Fuck no!

You were curvy in all departments with plush thighs, pillowy ass, and large breasts, and walking through the fall harvest market, you had to remind yourself over and over there was nothing wrong with that. The other people there weren’t looking at you, and judging you, and seeing a fatty… well, maybe some of them were, but you didn’t care.

You were _average_. Most women nowadays had a little extra junk in their trunk, or on their hips and thighs. It was not something to be ashamed of.

_Then why do I feel ashamed?_

A shaky breath escaped your lips, and you turned away from the outdoor market with all its colourful booths to wander toward the petting zoo where small children were squealing over bunnies, kittens, chicks, and the pygmy goats, or begging to ride the ponies.

The Kennedy Farms Harvest Market had been a tradition of yours for the last three years. Every year you came out in October, picked apples for pies, found a pumpkin to carve for Halloween and wandered the stalls with all the creative crafters and farmers who sold their wares. There were hayrides and hot apple cider, pumpkin chucking, live music, and the corn maze to get lost in. The crisp air and lively atmosphere made you so happy.

You refused to allow Adrian to taint that. You refused, even as your lip quivered and you walked around the end of the petting zoo to stand beneath a large maple tree and try to catch your breath. At least you’d driven. Adrian could walk the thirty-minute trip back to the city as far as you were concerned.

And you’d looked so damn good today, too! Your hair had cooperated for once, and you hadn’t poked yourself in the eye with your mascara wand. You’d found a great pair of jeans that actually fit right without gaping at your lower back. They were cut to fit your thighs, curving like you did, and you’d been ecstatic when you’d tried them on. A dark green sweater, caramel-coloured leather jacket and matching knee-high boots - found at the same store as your jeans - fit your wider calves, and you’d been excited to wear the new outfit out for the day. The store had quickly gone on your list as one of your favourite places ever and had even had lingerie meant to flatter a fuller figure.

At least you hadn’t bothered to spend money on something to please Adrian. Not now. He’d never have seen it anyway.

You sighed and wrapped your arms around yourself. It was stupid to cry over him, but his words had stung. People always judged the book by its cover, and you were the fat girl no one wanted.

“Hey.”

A quiet voice called, startling you from your pity party into swiping the tear swiftly from your cheek before turning around. “Yeah?” you asked only to have your brain stall at the image of the man before you.

Tall. Broad. Built. And holy fuck was he gorgeous! The man was the kind you expected to see brooding on the back of a Harley, his hair a little too long and curled where he’d tucked it behind his ears. His cheekbones were sharp enough to slice paper, jaw covered with stubble, and there was a dimple in his chin.

_You’d always been a sucker for a dimple._

He had kind eyes, a startling blue-grey filled with a soft tenderness and apology which confused you. He looked almost sheepish standing before you in his dark washed jeans, navy blue sweater, and dark coat with its ribbed cuffs and short ribbed collar.

A small grin worked its way over his lips, and he shoved his hand through his hair nervously before tucking both in his pockets. “Uh, so, this may sound stupid, but I wanted to apologize for the dumbass male of my species. That jackass was way outta line saying something so stupid to a _smokin’_ dame like you.”

It wasn’t at all what you’d expected him to say, though you weren’t really sure what you expected, but certainly not that. Still, whether it was the way he’d repeated your thoughts of how Adrian was a jackass or the fact he’d called you a _smokin’ dame_ , you couldn’t be sure which one made you do it, but you snorted out a giggle.

“That’s better,” he smirked, losing some of his nerves as he held out his hand. “I’m Bucky.”

“(Y/N),” you smiled, shaking his hand.

“So… come here often?” he asked, thrusting his hand back into his hair and sending the dark locks falling forward.

It was wholly unfair. No man should be so hot.

“Every year. I love the market.”

“Great! You can be my guide.” His eyes twinkled, _freaking twinkled_ , right before he seized your hand and yanked you back toward the fair.

“Huh?” you squeaked, tugging against his firm grip.

“Yeah, doll face. My friend sent me out here to grab some stuff for his girlfriend, but I don’t know shit about these places. You think you could help a fellow out?”

You blinked at him, slightly dazzled, before nodding.

“Great!” He dug into his back pocket. “Here’s his list.”

The printing was neat and clipped, no extra effort put in, but it wasn’t the typical scrawl one would expect from a guy either. “You sure his girl didn’t write this?” you asked, making a mental map so you could find everything without doubling back a dozen times.

“Nah, Stevie’s an artist in his other life. Guy just does pretty in everything.” Bucky shrugged.

“Other life?”

“Yeah. Art is his passion but not his job. Maybe someday, but for now he’s happy doing what he loves on the side.”

You knew what it was like to have a hobby you loved, but a career you needed and just nodded, trying very hard to ignore how big and strong and a little rough his hand felt wrapped around yours. But, when he tugged you toward the corn maze instead of the booths, you frowned. “That’s not the right direction.”

“I know, but I’ve never been through a corn maze. Go through it with me first? That way I’m not hauling stuff around.” His eyes pleaded, big and bright like a little boy who’d asked to see Santa.

How the hell did you say no? But you hesitated. It wasn’t like you knew him. He was a relative stranger, even if he had said something cute and kinda sweet to make up for Adrian. What was to stop him from strangling you and leaving your body in the corn maze?

As if he could read your mind, he held up his free hand and crossed his heart. “I solemnly swear I am not a serial killer, nor do I have any intentions of dragging you into the corn to have my way with you.” Something in his eyes had you believing him, even though there was a little mischief there as well. He had an air about him of sweetness you were kind of helpless to resist.

“Fine, but if you do, just know I will return to haunt you and drive you insane,” you teased, blushing lightly when he laughed. Even that was sexy, crinkling up the corners of his eyes and rolling out deep and guttural.

“Scouts honour!” he held up two fingers.

“I highly doubt you were a boy scout.”

Another wide grin brightened his eyes. “You got me there. I just figured since you’ve likely done this a few times, you’d keep us from getting lost.” He tugged you by the hand into the maze, following a family with their kids.

There really were lots of people around, and it was only midday, so you stopped resisting and went along with the charming stranger. “You do realize they make this different every year, so even if I have done this before, I have never done this pattern before.”

“What?” he gasped in mock shock. “That’s it! We’re going back.” He made to turn around.

You gave him a shove and tucked his list into your back pocket. “Get moving, you big wuss.”

He grumbled about being lost for days and dying of starvation, but the twinkle was back in his eye. When the couple with their children split off to the right, you continued onward toward the wooden sign set between the two paths.

“What ya doing, doll face?” Bucky asked as you dragged him after you for once.

“The farm sets up these signs. They’re clues to help you find the center of the maze and then find your way out. It’s a challenge. Answer the questions, get a direction. Pick the wrong one, find a dead end.”

“Neat.” He peered over your shoulder. “What do you call corn still on the stalk? Ear or Cob.”

“Ear,” you murmured, turning to the left.

“You sound pretty damn certain,” he chuckled softly but followed your lead.

“Not my first maze, remember? The questions get harder the farther in you go.”

You made your way through the maze, answering questions and chatting like you’d known each other for years until you finally made it to the center of the labyrinth where you were greeted by a woman giving out hot cocoa with whipped cream. Next to her was a beautiful picture of an aerial view of this year’s maze.

“Oh, how pretty!” you exclaimed. The main image was that of a rooster, surrounded by the curls and switchbacks of the rest of the maze. “I always try to guess what the picture is by trying to build a mental image of the maze as we go.”

“And did you figure it out this year?” Bucky asked.

“Not even close,” you chuckled, turning away from the picture to look at him.

His eyes were soft again as he stood there, red cup in hand, a gentle smile on his lips. You blushed, unused to anyone look at you that way, and took a quick sip from your cup.

Bucky chuckled when you lowered it and stepped closer. “You got a little cream on your lip, _malen'kaya mysh'_.”

You were caught by his gaze, held immobile by the deep, foreign words as he reached up and gently brushed his thumb over the corner of your lips. When he pulled his hand away, he brought his thumb to his mouth and swept his tongue over the little dollop of cream.

You swallowed. _Hard_. “Uh… that’s, um, new.”

He chuckled before taking your hand and strolling out the opposite way to how you’d come in. “My grandmother was from the old country. She only spoke Russian, and while she died when I was a young boy, I remember certain things.”

“And what did that mean?” you asked, curious and surprisingly turned on.

“Little mouse.” He smiled down at you before leading you toward the next clue.

You went unresisting, far too confused to do anything but follow. Was he joking? Making fun of you? After what had happened with Adrian and the way he’d acted up till now, had it all been some kind of twisted game?

“Ooh! I know this one!” he crowed and pulled you to the right, but you dug in your heels.

“Are you making fun of me?”

He stopped and turned to look at you. “No. Why would you think that?”

“Little mouse. _Little_?” You freed your hand from his grip. “Why would you say that?”

Sorrow filled his eyes. “Because it was the term of endearment my _babushka_ used most often.” The cup he’d been carrying went in the garbage can beneath the clue with impressive precision before his hands returned to cup your face. “Your ex was a real piece of work, wasn’t he?” He shook his head slowly, his gaze never leaving your face. “You’re beautiful just the way you are, doll face. Don’t let some ass hat, jerk off, preppy dickhead make you doubt that.”

“Bucky.” Tears made your eyes water. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. You’ve been really nice.”

“When I saw you standing there all I could think was, “Shit, he’s stupid.” How could he talk like that to such a doll?”

He made you blush and look shyly away. “His opinion is the popular one, unfortunately.”

“Then they are all stupid,” he grumbled. “You’re a beautiful dame. Sexy and curvaceous. Any guy would be lucky to have you.”

You’d never been called sexy or curvaceous in your entire life, and the complement set your face on fire. “You use a lot of antiquated terms, you know that right?” you asked, desperate to change the subject.

Another sweet smile appeared on his lips as he let go of your face to retake your hand and lead you down the correct path. “Steve and I got hooked on the late thirties early forties lingo when we were kids thanks to some old gangster movies we loved. It kinda stuck, then a few years back we did this parody together, and it came in handy.”

“Parody? Like a film?” you asked, intrigued.

“Yeah,” he said, glancing at you.

“Is that what you do for a living? Act?”

“In a sense. I’m not your traditional kind of actor.”

“What’s that mean?” You frowned up at him.

He gave a small, almost sad sounding sigh and drew you to a stop in an empty section of the maze. “I do high end, parody, pornographic films. It’s my job, one I’m good at, and it pays the bills. I’m not embarrassed by it, but it’s off-putting to people. I don’t usually bring it up so soon after meeting someone, but you asked and I ain’t going to lie to you.”

You blinked at him, mouth agape, as he stared at you. His expression was stern, wary even, while he clearly waited for you to condemn him.

“I… okay,” you whispered, slightly shell-shocked. “Can I ask… why?”

He looked a little taken aback. Like he couldn’t quite believe you hadn’t screamed something nasty and stormed off. “Stevie’s mom got sick. The cash was good, and at the time he wasn’t much better than her. Steve was a scrawny kid, got sick a lot, and didn’t start filling out and getting bigger until right before college. His dad did what he could, but money was tight, and doctors were expensive. It was easy for me. I loved her like she was my own ma, so I did what I could.”

“Bucky,” you sighed, your heart aching.

“It was cancer, and once we found out, things got even more expensive. Steve was supposed to be going to school on a scholarship, but he said he was gonna take a job instead. Work to pay for her treatments. She flipped her lid. Ripped a strip off him and would’a whupped his ass too if he hadn’t said he’d go on to school.”

“So he went?” You took his hand and continued into the maze, tossing your cup in a trash can as you went by.

His shoulders relaxed. “Yeah, he went, but he took a side job and damn near flunked out in the first three months cause he was working himself to death. By then he’d filled out, and I slapped the kid upside the head and took him to work with me. He damn near died when he found out what my job _really_ was.” He chuckled softly and shook his head. “Damn near kicked my ass, too, going off about _how could I do that for money_ and shit until Stark came along and offered him a contract no different than mine. It paid him three times what he made at work and didn’t interfere with school, so he signed on.”

“Isn’t it… hard though?” you asked, looking up only to find a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Oh, darlin’. It’s definitely hard.”

“Walked right into that one,” you mumbled, shaking your head.

“Yeah you did,” he chuckled. “It takes some disconnecting, but you learn it’s just a job like any other job.”

“Not quite,” you snickered. “Pretty sure my boss would frown on me being naked at work.”

“Only if he was an idiot,” Bucky quipped, leading you toward another clue.

“Stop it.” You rolled your eyes.

“Darlin’, you are a-smokin' hot dame, and someday, I’m gonna make you believe it.” He gave you a sexy wink which fluttered your insides way more than it should have.

“Someday? So you think we’re going to be hanging out more after today?” you asked, a smirk twitching your lips.

“You betcha, doll face,” he said while reading the next clue.

“So, back to your story. What happened with Steve’s mom?”

He smiled sadly. “She hung on for a few more years. Fought cancer twice, but there was an accident with Steve’s dad, and he died at his job. She only lasted a few months more before the cancer was back and had spread. There was nothing more they could do.”

“And your family?”

“Ain’t got no one but Steve.” He shrugged. “S’okay though. He’s always been more like my brother than a friend.”

“Hence the reason you’re doing the shopping for his girlfriend.”

“Something to that effect, yeah,” he chuckled.

Silence fell as you walked on, contemplating his story before you finally had to ask. “Um… how does your… your girlfriend feel about what you do?”

Amusement turned his eyes fully blue, a stunning, bright blue which seemed to hold you captive. “Ain't got one at the moment, but most have been in the industry, so they get it. It’s just a job. It’s just sex. It has nothing to do with how I feel or how I am when I’m with my girl. Those who weren’t? Jealousy was a major issue.”

“Why do you still do it?”

“Why does anyone keep a job? The pay’s good. The hours are sweet. My co-workers are decent people. And I have health insurance.”

Your brow arched as you pulled him to a stop. “It has nothing to do with the amount of time you spend naked?”

“Now, you know a question like that’s just gonna get me in trouble.” He shook his head even as he grinned wickedly.

You just eyeballed him until he sighed.

“Look, it’s not like I don’t get something out of it but it’s just sex. There are props, and people and lighting placement to be aware of. It ain’t like I’m all alone in a soft bed with a sweetheart of a woman,” he stepped closer and brought his free hand to your waist, “who looks at me with big, sexy eyes and a lush lip that’s just beggin’ for my teeth.” His gaze dropped to your lips as he drew you closer. “Who lets me call her _moya zvezdochka_ as I worship her fucking glorious curves.”

His voice had lowered an entire octave with his little speech and successfully dampened your panties. “What… what’s that…” You couldn’t quite get the words out.

His mouth was but a breath from yours when he rumbled out a sound so like a purr it had you inhaling sharply in excitement. “My star.”

“Oh…” you sighed. He was going to kiss you. You knew it. Wanted it. Ached for it.

The excited burst of laughter from the children racing past effectively ruined the moment.

A blush burned hot in your cheeks as you pulled away, noting the little sappy smile on the mom’s face as she scooted quickly by. “Um… yeah,” you stepped back, releasing the death grip you’d taken on his jacket. When? You hadn’t a clue. “We should go.” You motioned to continue on after the children.

“Yeah.” He sighed, thrusting his hand into his hair.

“You do that a lot.”

“What?”

“The hand,” you wiggled your fingers at his head, “through the hair thing.” It looked ridiculously soft, and you wanted to try.

“Habit, I guess.”

The exit appeared around the corner, and he led you toward it, back out into the hustle of the market grounds, but when you made to head toward the booths, he again pulled you away.

“C’mon and go on a hayride with me.”

“Huh?”

He chuckled at your blank look. “A hayride. Horses. Wagon. Y’know. Hayride.”

“Why?”

“Cause it’s fun.”

Before you could say otherwise, he’d hauled your behind over to the cart, grabbed you by the waist and damn near tossed you into the wagon. You squeaked out a startled cry and stared at him with what must have been dinner plate sized eyes. Just how the heck strong was he?

“What?” he asked, settling down in the pile of hay next to you while a family and three more couples got on.

“Nothing!” you eeped, hoping your face was not as red as it felt.

He snuck his arm behind your back and curled closer. “Did I do something wrong?” he murmured almost against your ear.

“N-nope,” you whispered, glancing up at him through your lashes.

A smug, rather knowing grin flitted across his face before he leaned back to give you breathing room. “So, you know about my job, but you’ve yet to tell me about yours.”

As it was a subject you were comfortable with, you found yourself turning toward him and speaking with animated hands and quick smiles as the ride got underway about your job, and home, and why you’d come to the market, to begin with. This brought you back to who you’d arrived with and the startling revelation you hadn’t once thought about Adrian since Bucky had dragged you into the corn maze.

It was surprising, and you muttered a quiet, “Huh, isn’t that something,” as you watched the orchard trees pass.

“What’s that, doll face?” Bucky asked just as quietly.

“I haven’t thought about Adrian once since you showed up. I can’t be sure if he dumped me here because he was trying to be an ass and taint one of my favourite places, or if he was just an ass in general but,” you looked at him, found his eyes soft and warm, and smiled, “I’m glad I met you, Bucky.”

“Me too, darlin’. Me too.”

The wagon hit a rut and lurched, throwing you directly into him where you managed to stop yourself from smacking your faces together by slapping your hands on his chest. “Sorry,” you whispered, finding his lips to be exceptionally close again.

“I’m not,” he murmured, sinking his hand into your hair.

His gaze dropped to your lips, and you held your breath, unable to believe for the second time he looked about to kiss you. When the wagon hit a bump, it threw you both up in the air a few inches, and when Bucky landed, he fell off the back of the wagon, just managing to release you and keep you from going with him.

It was too funny, and you laughed uproariously along with the rest of the riders as the driver drew the team to a halt to let Bucky catch up and climb back on.

“Best scoot closer to the middle, fella,” the old farmer chuckled, “and leave the kissin’ of your pretty girl till later.”

More giggles filled the air as you blushed, but Bucky only chucked along with the other riders. “Good advice. I’ll remember that.”

The ride continued and the conversations around your resumed, but you remained quiet watching the colourful trees as they went by. Bucky seemed content to relax by your side, though you thought he was doing way more staring at you than the fall foliage.

When you could stand it no longer, you looked at him, up to soft blue-grey eyes. “What?”

“What?” He smirked.

“You’re staring.”

“So?”

“Cut it out!”

“Why?” he asked, leaning closer. “Can’t I admire my pretty girl?”

“Yours?” you scoffed. “Since when?”

“Since the driver said you were,” he snickered.

“And who died and made him king of all things?”

“Farmers are magical, mystical people. They know things. Ancient things. Powerful things.”

You snorted. “Uh huh.”

“They do! How else would they know when to plant and when to harvest?”

“Uh, a calendar?” you quipped, rolling your eyes.

“What about their way with animals? Not just anyone could drive a team of horses, you know. It takes special skills.”

“Practice.” You crossed your arms and leaned back in the pile of hay, enjoying this way too much.

He scooted closer, glanced around, and whispered conspiratorially, “How do you explain… _the predictions_?”

“Predictions?”

Bucky leaned even closer, his eyes dancing with laughter. “They know when the weather will change _without_ watching the weather channel!” he said, effectively shutting down your next argument.

You smirked at him and shook your head. “I guess it must be magic.”

“Ha! See!” he crowed, laughing, right up until the wagon hit a second rut, sending him falling nearly on top of you. “Shit!” he hissed, earning a glare from the parents of the kids as he scrambled off you when you _oofed_ out a breath.

“You’re heavier than you look,” you murmured, blushing as he helped you sit up and began picking hay out of your hair.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to land on you like that.”

“S’okay,” you shrugged. “I’ve got extra padding.”

He immediately cupped your face and lifted your chin. “If you do, it only makes you sexy as fuck,” he said softly.

Unable to deny the heat in his gaze, you looked shyly away. “If you say so.”

“I say so,” he whispered, pressing his lips to your forehead in a brief kiss as the wagon rolled to a stop, the ride over. “You hungry?” he asked, sliding off the end and reaching for your hands to help you down. “I’m starving. Let’s get a funnel cake.”

You couldn’t help but laugh and go along with him as he tugged you insistently toward the stand with the tasty smelling treat.

“What kind you want?” he asked, drawing you up beside him.

“It’s the harvest market,” you shook your head, feigning disappointment. “Apple pie of course.”

“Of course!” he said, acting shocked he hadn’t thought of it. “What other option is there?”

You laughed and bumped his hip with yours. “I’m ashamed of you, Bucky.”

“Forgive me, darlin’,” he pleaded, looking down at you with eyes that twinkled, “and let me buy you an Apple pie funnel cake?”

“I could buy my own,” you said seriously.

“But you’re here helping me out.” He shook his head. “Least I can do is buy you a treat, doll face.”

You gave in because you could tell you weren’t going to win. “Fine, but just get one. We can share.” The things were huge after all, filling an entire paper plate with their fried dough goodness. While, usually, funnel cakes were powdered with sugar and served, the farm - known for its apples - had created a rather unique kind which was topped with cooked apples like the innards from a pie. 

“Sounds fair,” Bucky agreed and tugged his wallet from his pocket as he ordered.

You stepped to the side to watch as they poured the batter through a funnel into the hot oil, building it up and making it bigger, letting it fry in all that greasy goodness. Really, this right here was why you would never be a size two. The glory that was anything greasy, sugary or chocolate was incredibly hard to resist. Food was a passion and cooking, or baking required tasting.

The scent of the baked apple filling hit your nose. Cinnamon and spice, and sweet, crisp apples. You could have drooled it smelled so good.

A quiet chuckle had you glancing Bucky’s way and blushing. “What?”

His eyes crinkled at the corners again, those pretty blue-grey orbs watching you with amusement and something which looked way too close to affection. “Nothing. I just like watching how you react to everything. There’s no hesitation with you is there? You just… enjoy. It’s… inspiring.” He took the plate from the vendor and plucked up two forks before nodding toward a picnic table.

You gave a half-hearted shrug. “I like to eat… clearly,” you muttered, sitting across from him.

“Nothing wrong with that, darlin’.”

 _Says the man who walked out of the pages of Hunks Quarterly_ , you thought to yourself but didn’t say so out loud. “The crazy thing is, I would have skipped them this year because Adrian would have looked at me-” you bit off the words, not wanting to taint the fun you were having and scooped up a forkful of filling.

“Hey,” Bucky laced his fingers with yours, “there ain’t nothing wrong with the way you look, (Y/N), and there’s nothing wrong with eating like you enjoy it. I’ve seen the other end of things where women starve themselves to be a certain size or look a certain way. It ain’t right. We’re all different, we’re meant to be, but I think you’re as beautiful on the outside as you are on the inside.”

You had to look away from his too earnest eyes before the tears pricking yours slid down your face. “You’re really sweet,” you whispered.

“Nah.” He shrugged it off. “I just don’t like seeing you be so hard on yourself when it’s all a bunch of crap.”

A short bark of laughter escaped your lips, and you glanced up to find him grinning at you as he held out a forkful of funnel cake.

“Help me eat this thing cause if you don’t, I’m gonna eat it all and likely make myself sick.”

You took the offering and sighed when the flavours burst on your tongue. “There’s just nothing like it.”

Together, you polished off the cake with more enthusiasm than you’d show for food in three months. It was becoming remarkable clear that Adrian had done more than poke at your self-esteem. He’d had you changing everything you’d once liked and respected about yourself. He’d made you doubt parts of yourself you hadn’t in years, and all so you wouldn’t feel alone. How foolish you’d been. But, at the same time, you were grateful. If he hadn’t been such an ass, you might have never met Bucky.

“This may sound stupid,” you murmured as you collected the plate and cutlery to place in the garbage, “but… I’m kind of glad I got dumped.”

“Me too, doll face,” Bucky agreed softly. “Though I hate he hurt you.”

“I think he hurt my pride more than anything. Bruised my feelings a little. But I’ll live.” You motioned toward the booths, and he nodded.

“You were here for stuff too, weren’t ya?”

“Apples and a pumpkin. I like carving one for Halloween, and the kids in my neighbourhood enjoy it. Plus there’s pie and roasted seeds to be made.” You grinned up at him.

“Damn, you really make that stuff yourself?”

“I do,” you laughed, reaching for the list in your pocket, but when you dug for it, it was gone. “Oh, no!”

“What?” Bucky was quick to grab your wrist. “What’s wrong?”

“Your list! It’s gone!” You turned to look at the ground but knew it was likely hopeless. “I’m so sorry, Bucky. It must have fallen out at some point.” Now, what was he going to do?

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I’ll text Steve and get him to send it again. We can wander around and get your stuff first and maybe I’ll be able to jog my memory.” He pulled his phone from inside his coat and typed out a quick text before tucking it away and taking your hand.

You let loose a relieved sigh, thankful you hadn’t screwed things over for him too badly and made your way into the first row of wares. “I love coming here. People make such pretty things.” There were quilters and knitters, candle makers and jewelry vendors. There was the guy with the honey made from different kinds of flowers, and the lady who made pies with a crust to die for. A soap maker sat beside a wood carver, his latest creation half finished in a block of wood upon a stand surround by shavings. Everywhere you looked there was something someone had created by hand.

“Here!” you gave Bucky’s hand a tug toward a woman with sample sized cups spread across her table. “Try this.”

He looked at you questioningly before making to look at the sign, but you brought your hand up to touch his face before he could see it. It had him darting his gaze back to yours and set a blush flooding your cheeks as you quickly pulled it away to pick up one of the little cups. “Just… just try it.”

He captured your hand, cup and all, a brought it to his lips where he tossed it back, only to cough and wheeze a little at the burn. “Damn!”

Unable to help yourself, you giggled. “Flavored vodka. With your grandmother, I thought you’d hold up better,” you teased.

“I’d like to see you try. This stuffs potent,” he grumbled but smiled.

“Alright.” You picked up another cup, the amounts no more than a taste, and tossed it back. “Mmm,” you hummed. “The flavoured ones are nice, but I really like just the straight vodka.”

He stared at you with his mouth hanging open for a moment before taking both your hands in his. “Marry me.”

You burst out laughing.

“No, no! Anyone who can toss back an ounce of straight, and really exceptional, vodka like that is the woman for me. My _babushka_ would turn over in her grave if I let someone like that go.”

Still laughing, you reached into your jacket and tugged the folded up reusable bag from inside to carry the bottle you purchased.

“You gonna share, doll face?” he asked, stealing the bag from your fingers.

“You appear to need the practice, so maybe,” you teased, continuing down the aisle.

He chuckled and grabbed your hand to tug you out of the way of a family whose youngest was in full meltdown. The baby was crying something fierce, likely tired from all the excitement, and had your sympathy. “Poor baby,” you murmured watching them go.

“You got a soft spot for kids?”

You shrugged beneath his scrutiny. “I’d have a couple someday if the opportunity was there.”

He smiled a wide, crooked grin and looked up at the sky. “That's cool.” When he didn't say any more on the subject, you let it drop and continued on.

You stopped every so often to look over the offered wares, touching sweaters made from alpaca and socks of Irish wool. There were necklaces of silver with pretty pieces of crystal, and stalls full of spices.

It wasn't until you got to the stalls with the apples you realized Bucky hadn't bothered to check his phone. “Steve didn't get back to you?”

He shook his head. “I’d a felt it vibrate if he had.”

Your face fell. “Oh.”

“S’okay though. We'll get your stuff, and if I haven't heard from him, I'll help you back to your car and give him a call.”

It didn't do much to assuage your guilt though. “Tell him I'm really sorry. Here I am supposed to be helping you out, but you're wasting all your time with me.”

He pulled hard on your hand, spinning you around to face him. He let go of your fingers, but it was only so he could cup your chin. “Spending the day with you, _moya_ _zvezdochka_ was in no way a waste of my time. It's been a pleasure.”

The hard pounding of your heart was hard to ignore. “I've had fun, too,” you murmured as your cheeks pinked.

“What kind of apples you want?” he asked, his thumb gently caressing your skin.

“Honey… honeycrisps if I can get them or Jonagolds.”

“Not a regular old Granny Smith kinda girl, huh?”

“Too tart,” you whispered, hung up in his eyes.

“I dunno, doll face. You're pretty sweet. I bet you wouldn't have a problem with a tart apple.”

“Stop it,” you giggled, thoroughly embarrassed.

“Sweet as a peach,” he murmured, his thumb following the path of his gaze when it drifted down to caress the flesh of your lower lip. “Bet you taste just as delicious.”

The boldness that rose up inside you took you by surprise when you said softly, “Maybe you should stop stalling and find out.”

“Maybe I should.” He smiled another hard to resist, crooked grin and bent closer. His warm breath brushed your lips as he whispered, “But not in the middle of the fairground.”

Disappointment surged only to disappear on a wave of anticipation. Did that mean at some point he was actually going to finally kiss you?

“Let's get them apples, darlin’.”

You nodded as he stepped away and continued on like you weren't strung tight as a drum, feeling every touch as he settled his hand on your back and guided you through the people. You taught him how to choose apples and loved how intently he listened.

He had done that all day. Listened as if everything you said was vitally important. You never had to repeat yourself with him, and it was wonderful. You had actual conversations that had been full and fresh and stimulating.

What had started out one shitty trip had become the best day you'd had in… months.

“Hey, Bucky?”

“Yeah, doll?”

He smiled at you, packing your reusable bag and the two bags of apples you'd purchased, and damn if your heart didn't skip and your stomach burst with butterflies.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

You looked down at the well-trodden grass of the field. “For being so nice and spending the day with me.”

His arm went around your waist, and he tugged you to his side. “I wouldn't want to be anywhere else.”

“Why? I'm sure there are things you'd rather be doing than hanging out with the girl who got dumped at the farmer’s market.” You'd reached the large cardboard bins with the pumpkins and peered in the first one.

“Doll,” he tugged your hand to get your attention, “there ain't nowhere else I want to be than right here with you.”

You blushed and turned back to the bins, looking for the perfect pumpkin to try and regain your composure.

He was so sweet and just so damn hot. It was nice to spend time with him but disconcerting to be the focus of those intense eyes. People - men - didn't look at you like you were some sex kitten they couldn't take their eyes off of.

“Hey,” he tugged a second time, drawing your gaze back to his face and the frown which was marring his forehead. “What is that look for?”

You feigned ignorance, “What look?” and shook your hand free to peer in the next pumpkin bin.

“The one that says you’re waiting for me to kick you in the ass or something.”

“I’m not.” But you were. No matter how many times he’d almost kissed you, or how sweet and kind he’d been, the things he’d said which tumbled butterflies in your belly, you still couldn’t quite believe this wasn’t all some _pity the fat girl_ moment. A moment that would end with you crying when he disappeared from your life after the best time you’d ever had with a guy.

The bins were roughly four feet deep, and at the bottom of the second one, you found a perfect pumpkin. Without thought, you stepped up on the pallet it was sitting on, hitched your top half over the cardboard edge, and leaned over to get it.

“Uh, dollface? You want me to get that for ya?”

“I’m fat, not incompetent,” you muttered under your breath.

“You wanna try that again, (Y/N),” he grumbled, far closer than he had been.

You launched yourself out of the bin, nearly taking his chin out with the top of your head. “Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?” he asked, looking confused.

“Being so nice. Following me around. Holding my hand. All of it!” You threw your arms up in the air. “I don’t get it! You’re you, and I’m me and just... _why_?”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Storm clouds seemed to gather in his eyes, bleeding out the blue until they were fully grey.

“Look,” you sighed, knowing you were ruining… everything, but unable to stop the words from coming out your mouth. “You’ve been amazing, but you’re… the hottest guy I’ve ever met, and I’m me. Thick thighs, plump ass and all. Our kind, we don’t mix.” You sighed sadly, dropping your gaze to the ground. You were surprised when the bags he was carrying came into view as he set them carefully beside his feet.

His hands wrapped around yours and when he lifted them up, your gaze went with them. The swirling mix of emotions showing in his storm cloud eyes had you biting your lip because though there was anger, there was also sorrow. “I don’t ever want to hear you put yourself down like that again. _You are fucking gorgeous_! Anyone who says otherwise can fight me. I thought so from the second I laid eyes on you. You stood there with your chin up and your goddamn glorious eyes full of fire and told that prick off and then walked away like you were the queen to his peasant. _Shit_ if you didn’t draw me in right there because here was a woman who didn’t give a flying fuck about what dick head said. A confident, sexy as hell woman who lifted her chin and walked away like he was no better than dryer lint. A thing to be discarded. I had to follow you. Find you. Talk to you.”

“Bucky,” you whispered, mesmerized.

He brought your hands together and set them on his chest, directly over his heart, freeing one of his to tenderly tuck your hair back and lightly brush your cheek. “Then you turned around, and I was struck. Such sadness on such a beautiful face. I wanted to punch that jackass in his and do whatever I could to cheer you up. Then you laughed, and I needed to hear it again. And again. And again.”

You didn’t know what to say and floundered for words of any kind.

“I get you’ve had a bum wrap, doll face. I get that there’s a lot of people out there who’ve treated you like your subhuman, believe me, I get it, but don’t ever assume I’m here cause I feel obligated. I chose to talk to a girl I thought was a smokin’ dame, chose to stay and have fun with her, and I’d choose to do it all over again because she’s amazing. Don’t ever tell me I’m one of _them_ ever again.”

“O-okay,” you whispered, shocked and a little awed.

“Pick your damn pumpkin, darlin’. Then I’ll help you get this stuff back to your car.”

You blinked a few times as if coming out of a trance and turned by remote to lean back over the bin and grab the pumpkin you wanted. There was only one problem. It was heavier than you’d expected and as you struggled to lift it back out, the cardboard wall gave way sending you tumbling head first into the bin.

A sharp yelp left your lips as your life flashed before your eyes, followed by the crazy thought of how this would read in the newspaper come morning.

 _Woman breaks neck in pumpkin bin. Bystanders shocked._ Or _Death by Pumpkin! Get the gory details at six, ten, and eleven._

“(Y/N)!”

Bucky’s hand closed in the back of your jacket as the other shoved hard on your flailing legs, levering you out of the collapsing bin like a teeter-totter and over backward into his arms where he somehow managed to catch you before you collided with the ground. The most startling aspect of the whole fiasco was, somehow, unbelievably, you’d held onto the damn pumpkin.

“Holy shit!” you gasped, looking up at him in shock.

“Jeez, doll! Christ, you okay?” He helped you up and held you by your elbows while you clutched the pumpkin.

“I think you just save my life,” you whispered, staring at him still.

A grin spread across his lips. “Well, you know what they say when you save someone’s life, don’t ya?”

You shook your head.

“That now I’m responsible for you. Guess I’m just gonna have to keep you.” He winked and brushed your cheek.

“Haha. Very funny.”

“It’s true. I saw it on the History Channel.” He looked very smug.

You rolled your eyes and headed off to pay for the pumpkin which had nearly killed you. “Sure. I’ll believe it when I see it. Link me an article or email me some facts, Bucky, then I’ll take your word for it.” After all, he’d teased you about farmers and magic earlier.

He chuckled but said no more on the subject, following along in your wake as you made your way toward the lineup. It wasn’t until you’d stood there for a few minutes in silence that you looked to see what he was doing. He had his phone in hand, and you asked, “Steve?”

“Nope.”

When he didn’t elaborate, you shrugged and shuffled forward to pay for your final purchase. Once you had, Bucky handed you the reusable bag that had your bits of extra things you’d picked up from the vendors and stole the pumpkin from your arms.

“I can carry that,” you said, frowning at how he was packing all the heavy stuff.

“But you don’t have to. I’ve got it.”

Again you blinked at him for a moment before giving in and leading the way to your car. The walk was quiet, almost as if you knew your time with him was coming to an end, and when you reached the back of your SUV, you popped the hatch and set everything inside. “I still feel terrible about losing Steve’s list.”

“Don’t worry about it, darlin’,” he said tucking the pumpkin up against the back seat to keep it from rolling around.

“You keep saying that, but I still feel horrible.” You fidgeted with your keys while he took a seat on your bumper and tugged his phone from his pocket.

“Truth?” he asked, appearing sheepish again when he thrust his hand into his hair.

“Always.” Though you were a little wary as to what this _truth_ was.

“The list was for the stuff I got yesterday. Today I was returning something when it didn’t work out for Sharon, Steve’s girl.”

“What?” you whispered, stuck somewhere between shocked and confused. “Then why… why ask for my help?”

“It was the only thing I could think of to get you to let me spend the day with you.” His smile turned boyish and crooked and so stupidly irresistible you smiled and shook your head. “And look!” He held up his phone. “If you save a man’s life, you’re responsible for it forever is an old Chinese proverb. Guess that means your mine, doll face.”

“According to the Chinese and the elderly farmer of Kennedy farms, anyway,” you chuckled, shaking your head. “So all this was a ruse, huh?”

“Well, I wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to spend the day with a swell dame like you.” He grabbed your hand and pulled you down on the bumper beside him.

“And that text you sent?”

“Steve. Told him I’d met an amazing girl, and I’d be home after I convinced her to go out with me.” He leaned closer, his eyes back to the intense blue-grey of before.

“Is that what you're doing? Convincing me to go out with you?” you asked, caught in his eyes and his smile.

“No.”

Your heart plummeted.

“I’m gonna kiss her first, then I won’t have to convince her. She’ll just say yes.”

“You sound pretty sure of yourself,” you sighed, leaning closer.

“Oh, I am, darlin’,” he murmured, cupping your cheek as he brought his mouth to within a hair’s breadth of yours, “I really am.” 

He closed the distance, and his lips were there, stealing your breath and fuzzing your mind. The butterflies in your belly all seemed to become kittens, wanting nothing more than to roll over and purr with pleasure when his head tilted and his lips parted to send his tongue sweeping over your lips. You sighed into the kiss, feeling drugged, lightheaded, and intoxicated as his hand shifted to cup your nape and draw you in.

It was slow and sweet, and yet somehow still the hottest kiss you’d ever participated in, causing you to reach up and slide your fingers through his silky locks like you’d wanted to hours ago. Your nails skated his scalp, and Bucky hummed into the kiss before slowly pulling back, lips clinging and foreheads connected until the last possible second.

“Wow,” he whispered.

“Yes,” you sighed.

He chuckled softly. “Gonna need your phone, doll.”

“Mm, kay.” Your entire body seemed to hum with the pleasure of that one incredible kiss, and you dug your phone out from your inside coat pocket only to find the message light blinking. A quick press of the home button showed you they were all from Adrian. “It seems someone’s pissy I didn’t offer to drive him home.”

“You’re shittin’ me?” Bucky huffed, looking over your shoulder. “The balls on that jackass.”

You hit delete and handed the phone to Bucky who quickly input his information and then sent himself a text to have yours. He stood from his seat in the back of your vehicle and held out his hands to help you up before tugging you a step closer and lightly brushing your cheek.

“Today was really fun, (Y/N).”

“It was,” you agreed, blushing a little.

“Dinner?” he asked. “Tomorrow night?”

You nodded. “I’d really like that.”

“Great! I’ll text you the details and pick you up at six.” He pressed another quick kiss to your mouth, gave you a wink and stepped back. “We’ll go on our second date.”

“Don’t you mean first?” you called as he continued backing away.

“Nah, dollface,” he grinned, big and wide. “ _This_ was our first!” He laughed as he darted away toward his car.

* * *

Tony was chuckling by the time you finished telling the story. “So, you get dumped, and Barnes snuck in a date you had no idea you were on?”

“Pretty much,” you sighed, trying not to turn red

“I was this close,” Bucky held his fingers an inch apart, “to saying, “I don’t know? How do you feel about it?” when she made that girlfriend comment, but I thought I might be pushing things.”

“You pushed a lot of things anyway!” you huffed, getting to your feet. “Shortly after that, I met Steve and…” you bit off _her_ name and started collecting empty plates, “and the rest is history.”

“Four years later, still happy and married to the love of my life.” Bucky gave your behind a pat as you went by, causing you to glare at him.

“Watch it, Bucko. They all have to go home sometime.”

Everyone laughed and teased Bucky about being in trouble while you only chuckled and took the stuff inside.

Steve was in the kitchen, and you smiled at him. “You okay, Steve?” He looked sad, and you set your handful of dishes down.

“Yeah, doll,” he shrugged it off. “That story… it’s the same time I…”

You were in front of him, drawing him down for a hug before he could even finish. “I know, Stevie.” He sighed and wrapped his arms around you.

He’d walked away shortly after you’d started your story. The past dredging up old, painful memories. While you and Bucky had been just starting out, figuring things out, and learning how to come to terms with both your own insecurities and what he did for a living, Steve’s long-term relationship had been falling apart.

Sharon had been nice enough, but she’d hated what Steve did for a living and took every opportunity to make him feel like shit for it. The thing was, Steve had been partly to blame. He hadn’t been as honest with Sharon as Bucky had been with you, worried she wouldn’t be able to handle the truth.

Unfortunately, he’d been right. He’d told her, and she’d flipped, but they’d been working things out. Right up until the night you and Bucky had gone back to the apartment Bucky and Steve shared, only to find an extremely drunk Steve and no Sharon.

He’d loved her so much, done everything she’d asked except quit, and she’d thrown some horrible things at him for it. Over the next few weeks, you’d seen almost as much of Steve as you had of Bucky, refusing to leave the heartbroken man to fend for himself, and Bucky had been grateful.

Over the years the three of you had become a tight group, and after the waxing incident, you’d only grown closer. “You’ll find someone, Steve. I know you will.”

He sighed and kissed your cheek. “If she ain’t a swell dame like you, doll face, it ain’t gonna happen.”

He pulled back, cupped your chin for a long moment, setting you searching his baby blues but it was like there was a wall there, one you just couldn’t breach. Before you could say anything, he smiled, and the sweet, jovial Steve you loved was back.

“You excited for Vegas, (Y/N)?”

“And a little nervous,” you confessed. “I’ve never been to one of these conventions before, but I think it will be fun. Plus, it's my birthday! Yay me!”

He chuckled and started helping with the dishes. “But no surprises, right?”

“See?” you quipped, bumping his hip with yours. “You have met me!” When you looked up, you found Bucky leaning against the wall, arms crossed and relaxed with his crooked smile on his face watching the two of you. “Don’t just stand there like a dumbass, Buck. Grab a towel.”

He walked over and squeezed Steve’s shoulder before leaning down to kiss your cheek. “I just remembered, darlin’, how I felt when I first saw you.”

“Happy anniversary, Bucky.”

“Happy anniversary, _moya zvezdochka_.”

**_-The End-_ **


	5. what Happens In Vegas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Smut, smut, and filth. NSFW (18+). Swearing.  
> The beginning of something new for two best friends and their best girl.

## Au Bucky Barnes One Shot

 

* * *

A combination of excitement and nerves danced in your belly. The convention was in full swing, and the boys sat behind tables signing autographs for grinning and blushing fans. The banner which hung behind them was from the Captain Assmerica movie, the highest selling porn parody of all time, and made you giggle every time you glanced at it.

Bucky and Steve both looked so incredible on it. Bucky with his darkened eyes and Steve with his suit. They looked like movie stars, and the people were treating them the same way, along with the rest of the cast.

Tony was his dapper self, off cultivating business and chatting up the crowd. Natasha was mingling with the line, her smile and slight accent keeping the men happy and many of the women as well when she casually touched arms or hands or took pictures.

Being there was the second wildest thing you’d ever done. The first had been agreeing to be Bucky’s fluffer, but it gave you the same giddy thrill.

It was like any other convention, except for the porn and pleasure aspect. Everywhere you looked there were people selling toys, lingerie, boudoir photo sessions, and a host of other paraphernalia.

There were other porn stars. Some you knew, some you’d only heard of, as well as other companies. Sin City held space a few aisles over. Their Pirates parody almost as big as Stark’s take on Marvel. They, too, had lines of waiting fans hoping for an autograph and a picture.

All around you were people so incredibly comfortable with their sexuality it made you a little giddy, and you sipped slowly on the pinã colada Clint had appeared with before making your way deeper into the convention.

Bucky would be busy, and birthday or not, you weren’t going to distract him from his job by hanging around. You were in Vegas at what was touted to be the hottest attraction in town for anyone over the age of eighteen. You weren’t going to waste a minute just because Bucky and Steve were occupied, and headed off to go explore.

Some of the booths contained much less risque items, and you found yourself chatting up a woman who sold essential oils, a man whose jewelry really was divine, and a couple who created intricately designed candles which looked like pieces of art. You skipped the ‘Dungeon’ - an enclosed area where they were giving BDSM demonstrations - and headed toward the concession with your bags full of purchases.

The entire adventure kind of reminded you of how you’d met Bucky, what with all the interesting products and people, and set a goofy smile on your lips. Nearly four years had passed since that day, and you’d never been happier. People had come into your life, and others had fallen out of it since then, but you’d found a true family with the people you loved who accepted and respected each other in ways you’d never experienced anywhere else.

There was no judgment, no pressure, and everyone simply allowed the others to be who they were. It was wonderful, and you loved them all.

Wanda and Vision had recently introduced everyone to Jennifer, a lovely woman whom they were dating. While once such an announcement might have shocked you, now, not so much. You knew Wanda had no preference between men or women, and Vision was secure in their relationship. If they wanted to add a third, good for them. They weren’t trying to replace something missing between them, only add to the love they shared. It made them happy and really, wasn’t that all that mattered?

The easy acceptance came naturally with how they had all helped you see your insecurities for what they were, assisting you in overcoming the mindset imposed on you with years of negative comments and self-hate. Natasha, Wanda, and Pepper had all helped you move past the image in your head to see the real you in the mirror.

You weren’t ever going to be Nat or Pepper, but there was nothing wrong with your curves, and, with the girls encouragement, you’d begun to take classes with them. Ones which had you toning in the places you wished, growing more confident with each passing week, without losing the parts of yourself Bucky had a tendency to lust after and grope.

God, you loved that man. He was everything you’d ever hoped for and dreamed of, and if, once in a while, you happened to have a moment of longing for blue eyes and blond hair you ignored it. Perhaps you really should talk to Bucky about setting Steve up with Samantha at work when you got home.

The thought was depressing, but you wanted him to be happy with someone who loved him, the real him, and could understand his job was just a job. Unlike _her_ , the woman who’d very nearly broken him.

You paid for your bottle of water, already feeling the alcohol in the pinã colada hum through your veins, and turned to go only to stop dead. “No.” It was like your thinking of her had summoned her, for standing a few booths away… was Sharon. “Son of a bitch,” you muttered and hurried back the way you’d come.

The convention had gotten busier while you’d been shopping and it took way longer to get back than you wished. Somehow, she beat you there and stood off to the side, sneer on her lips, staring at Steve.

“Natasha!” you hissed, shoving your way through the people to latch onto her arm.

“(Y/N)?” She turned to you with a frown.

“Sharon!” you hissed.

Her eyes widened in disbelief before narrowing in anger. “Where?” she growled, and you tilted your head the blonde’s direction, but it was again, too late for Steve had already seen her and was on his feet.

“Fuck!” the two of you spat at the same time.

“Sharon?” he said in disbelief.

She sauntered forward, bypassing all those waiting to stand right in front of him. “Steven.”

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

His voice wavered as he tried to keep the hope out of it, but you couldn’t help but see it in his eyes.

“I got married,” she said bluntly and held up her hand to show off the large, gaudy ring. “Eric and I decided Vegas would be fun. Then I found out about,” she looked around with hard eyes and waved her hand, “ _this_ and just had to see for myself if you were still whoring it up.”

He flinched like she’d slapped him. “That was uncalled for, Sharon.”

“I call it like I see it, Steven.” She looked down at his hands, and over at Bucky who’d come to his feet at Steve’s side. “I see you got married. Must have been that fat girl. She’s the only one who’d have you. Still single, Steven?”

“Oh, you bitch!” you hissed, having made your way closer. You were already in full swing when she turned toward you and planted your fist directly in her face, sending her crashing to the ground. “Security!” you shrieked, over the waiting crowd's applause. “Get this cunt out of here!”

“Damn, baby!” Bucky chuckled. “Nice one!”

“No one insults my boys!” you snarled.

“I think you broke my nose!” Sharon wailed while security hauled her up by the arms.

“And you broke his heart! I’d call that even. Get her the hell out of here.” You turned away, dismissing her as unimportant and looked for Steve, only to find him retreating through the curtains.

“Go on,” Bucky murmured, motioning toward the opening at the end of the tables. “He’s gonna need a hug or twelve.”

“God, I hate that woman,” you grumbled and stomped to the end of the row past the guard who was grinning at you.

“Nice jab,” he said as you went by.

“It was the least she deserved,” you huffed. “Silicone stuffed, blonde bimbo bitch,” you continued to grumble and slapped the curtain out of your way. Everything you were carrying fell to the ground when you found Steve sitting on a chair with his head in his hands.

His breathing was ragged, and it appeared as if every muscle in his body had been pulled tight.

“Stevie, oh, Stevie.” You fell to your knees at his feet and threw your arms around him. “Don’t you listen to a damn thing she just said! She’s a bitch! A raging one!”

His arms wrapped around you and dragged you closer so he could tuck his face into the crook of your neck. “But she’s right,” he whispered, his voice breaking.

“No, she damn well isn’t!” You hugged him all the tighter. “She’s narrow-minded, judgmental, and completely insane! You have a job, Steven. A job. Anyone who can’t see it’s only that is an idiot.”

“Why are you so perfect?” he chuckled wetly and shuddered in your hold.

“Uh, hello? Because I’m _awesome_ ,” you quipped, hoping for another laugh.

He gave it to you and lifted his head. “Sorry… ‘bout blubberin’ on you.”

“Steven.” You cupped his face and used your thumbs to wipe the tracks of tears from beneath his eyes. “I hope you know you’re safe with me. I’ll never look at you like that or call you names. She’s wrong. Really, really wrong. And small minded. There’s nothing wrong with you or what you do for a living.”

Pain flared in his eyes before he closed them and sighed. “You really are too perfect, doll face.”

“I care about you, Steve, and I don’t like knowing she hurt you.”

“You throw a pretty wicked right, (Y/N).”

His hands stroked up and down your back, your tank top no barrier to the warmth of his palms. “She pissed me off,” you murmured, continuing to stroke his cheeks long after the tears were gone. The blue of his eyes was just so vivid. It was easy to get caught up in them.

He looked at you for a long time, his mind working, eyes assessing. There was something in them you couldn’t quite decipher. When his hand cupped your jaw, you shivered a little, the touch causing a flood of sensation to race through your body.

“Steve,” you whispered, hardly able to find your voice.

“Baby,” he sighed, his thumb stroking your lower lip. “Some birthday, huh?”

“I got to punch Sharon in the face. I consider that an excellent present,” you said with a forced smirk, trying to contain the thundering of your heart.

He chuckled softly, his gaze drifting down to your lips. “It really is too bad.”

“What is?”

“Nothing,” he whispered and turned your face to press a kiss to your cheek. “Thanks for being my bodyguard.”

“Always,” you sighed, ignoring the disappointment in your heart in the hope that the guilt would go away.

You were Bucky’s wife. You shouldn’t be pining after missing out on kissing his best friend.

***

After, once Steve was feeling steady, and all evidence of his meltdown had vanished, you decided to head back to the room.

Tony had given you and Bucky an enormous two bedroom suite to share with Steve. There was a massive living room and dining room between your room and the other, allowing for privacy between the bedrooms, and you threw your stuff on the couch before stalking over to the windows to stare at the Vegas skyline and pour yourself a drink.

Sharon had soured your mood, and the bruised knuckles you hadn’t noticed earlier were throbbing. Soon you would grab the bucket and go get yourself some ice to stick your hand in, but not just yet. Right now you wanted a shot of vodka and to sulk.

“Baby?”

You hadn’t even heard the door and startled at Bucky’s voice. “Hey, Buck,” you murmured, throwing back the shot while he made his way toward you.

“You okay, darlin’?” His hands landed on your waist.

“I hate her,” you whispered, a shudder running through you as you turned and threw your arms around his neck. “She hurt him so much! I hate her! I hate it! I hate how alone he is!”

“I know, baby.” He stroked your back, the same path Steve’s hands had walked but moments ago. “Maybe we need to do somethin’ bout that, huh?”

“Like what?” you sighed. “It’s like you said, so many people can’t see past what you two do for a living to the wonderful men you are. Look at all the people who’ve walked away from me because I can! He’s so sweet and gentle and kind. Why can’t people just… just… get over themselves!?”

“Cause most people aren’t like you, _moya zvezdochka_ ,” he murmured. “But then I knew that from the moment I met you. You’re so special, (Y/N). Your heart is so big and so full of love.”

He kissed you softly, reverently, and you relaxed into him. He lit you up. Always had, and you figured he always would, but the guilt from earlier had you pulling away after only a few seconds.

“Baby?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be downstairs?” you asked, furthering the guilt burning in your belly.

He smiled, and you wanted to cry. “Yeah, but I needed to check on my girl. I knew you’d be up here brooding over what happened, but I also have a surprise for you.”

“Buck, you know how I feel about surprises,” you grumbled.

“I do, but today’s your birthday, and this is technically from Tony and Pepper. They’re sending the spa to you. Massage, mani/pedi, hair, face, makeup, the whole shebang! You’ll be all relaxed and dolled up for tonight when I take you out and show you off.” He grinned wide, and you laughed.

“Okay, that’s a surprise I can get behind.”

“Great! Now my gift… it’s two parts. The first will be waiting on the bed for you once you’re all prepped and ready.”

You threaded your fingers through his hair and giggled when he tugged you closer. “Oh? Is that your way of saying I’m going to find a naked Winter Soldier masked and waiting on my bed?”

“Naked comes later,” he growled and the blue-grey of his eyes heated. “You’ve got twenty minutes until the spa people get here.”

“That’s some timing.” You arched a brow, looking at him speculatively.

He shrugged. “Tony made a call.”

“I bet he did,” you chuckled.

“It pays to know people with more money than Solomon,” he agreed, his smile smug. “I gotta get back, but you enjoy, and don’t worry about Stevie. He’s good, feeling better cause of you and your _amazing_ right hook-”

“It was a jab,” you muttered. _Thank you, Tae Bo._

“-and I’ll check on you in a couple of hours. Relax, baby. Enjoy your birthday. I gotta plan for Steve,” he pressed his finger to your lips when you tried to ask what that was, “and I’ll talk to you about it later.”

“Fine. Tell Tony and Pepper thanks.”

“Will do.” He pecked you a kiss and headed for the door before turning back to smirk at you. “Don’t forget to look for your gift once you’re done.”

“Alright.” His obvious excitement sent a frisson of answering enthusiasm up your spine. That look usually meant you were in for some naughty fun. You looked forward to seeing just what he was up to and pushed the guilt about Steve aside. After all, he was a gorgeous man, and you were in no way dead.

***

You felt like melted butter. That was the only way to describe it. Your body was one boneless mass of muscle thanks to Maria and her magic fingers. You’d never had such a relaxing massage.

Your toes matched your nails, a beautiful soft pink, and your skin was buffed and shiny. You’d bitten the bullet and gotten waxed a few days before leaving for Vegas, knowing how much Bucky liked it, and now you felt like a decadent, polished star. Your hair was up, appearing sleek and shiny, leaving the long line of your throat bare.

They’d sent an entire team, a revolving door of people to see to your every whim. There had been champagne, chocolate dipped strawberries, and a scalp massage which had made you moan in bliss. The Starks were so getting hugged for their thoughtfulness.

Now, you were alone after seeing the stylist out, and finally able to head to the bedroom to find the gift Bucky had said would be waiting.

You may not like surprises, but you did love presents! A white box sat on the end of the enormous bed with a big red bow on top.

Giving a giddy giggle, you scrambled across the room to lift the lid. Tissue paper greeted your eyes, and you pulled it open carefully. “Oh, wow.” 

Inside was a beautiful dress in a silvery blue. You lifted it out, knowing your mouth hung open, only to have a small bag fall back into the box. It was black velvet, and you laid the dress to the side, noting the sleek blue pumps waiting in the corner of the tissue. You picked up the bag, finding it rather weighty, and pulled on the strings. A soft, rubber object fell into your palm, and you gasped when you realized what it was.

Your body heated, warming swiftly at the implication, and when the hand wrapped around your housecoat clad abdomen, you didn’t even startle.

“You smell amazing, darlin’,” he murmured in your ear, his lips tracing the curve. “And look even better.”

“Buck?”

“What you think, baby? You feeling up to it?” His fingers traced from the tapered tip down to the flat base.

“You want me to wear this… all night?” you asked, uncertain if you could.

“It ain’t no different than the metal one we have, and at least I can’t make this one vibrate,” he growled against your cheek, thrusting his hips against your ass.

There was no mistaking how exciting he found the prospect of you wearing his gift, a new rubber plug, for the night was.

Anal sex had come up about a year ago, and while you’d been resistant at first, he’d helped expand your boundaries with patience and understanding. It wasn’t something you did often, but it was enjoyable and had become an act you looked forward to because it was special.

Your sexual education had gone from vanilla straight into full kink with Bucky. While there were certain things you’d tried together and discarded as not for you - like when you'd had to get stitches after falling out of a sex swing onto your head - this had turned out to be a lot more fun than you’d expected. When he’d come home with a black wrapped box only to produce your first, much smaller plug, you’d been rather excited. That had been six months ago, and now you were here.

“You’re such a damn perve. Why do I love you again?” you asked, rolling the item between your hands.

His fingers crept up the back of your thigh, lifting your robe as he went to find the curve of your ass cheek and slip between your legs. Deft fingers found your bare lips, grown wet with arousal, and parted them to delve a finger deep into your slick core. “That’s why. I make you wet, baby. Look how soaked you are at the idea of having this up your ass all night. I even bought you some sexy new panties to help keep everything in place.”

“Bucky,” you moaned and bent over the bed, thrusting your ass back at him. Two fingers snuck into your tightening core to stroke and tease.

“If you say yes, I’ll finish,” he crooned, leaning over to sneak his hand down the front of your robe and tug on your nipple.

“Dammit, James!” you huffed.

“Is that a yes, doll face?” he chuckled.

“Fuck! Yes!” you groaned.

His fingers left your core only to smack your ass. “On the bed, baby. Hands and knees. Get rid of the robe.”

You moved around to the other side on shaky legs, disrobing as you went, only to finally catch sight of him. He was decked out in blue suit pants and crisp shirt, his hair slicked back and face cleanly shaven. His sleeves were rolled up, muscles bunching and flexing with his desire to touch you, staring at you with hot eyes and a bulge in his pants he was doing nothing to hide.

“Bucky,” you sighed, loving it when he dressed up. He looked so damn sexy.

“So, I’m back to Bucky, am I?” he chuckled and made his way toward you when the robe pooled around your ankles. “Damn.” His hand reached out and caressed the curve of your waist. “They really made your skin glow. And it’s so soft,” he murmured, pulling you into him so he could touch you more.

“Bucky, we’ll be late for dinner,” you protested half-heartedly when his hands cupped and weighed your breasts.

“Then get on the bed,” he growled and gave your bottom another gentle swat as he stole the plug from your fingers.

You knelt up on the bed, legs slightly spread, heart pounding with excitement when the drawer in the nightstand opened and closed.

“You know what you need to do, _moya zvezdochka_. Relax, breathe, and enjoy.”

His voice had lowered, the Russian seeming to rumble and purr from somewhere deep in his chest. It produced a shiver which sent you to your elbows but no farther, careful of the makeup your stylist had been so precise with.

The arrival of his mouth on your core made you groan before the lube slicked thumb began to circle your puckered rosebud. He worked you up fast, his tongue knowing just how to play to make you choke back screams of pleasure. Thumb soon became slick fingers, and he worked you open gently.

“Bucky,” you gasped. “Please!”

A rumble escaped him, vibrating through you, making you see stars with how good it all felt. Right as the flutter became a pulsing, a precursor to your orgasm, the cool tip touched you, and you flinched.

His tongue slid through your folds. “Easy, _kotenok_ ,” he crooned and continued to press the tip deeper.

His lips latched around your clit to tug and suck and drive you wild, forcing you to focus elsewhere while the bulbous middle of the plug stretched you wider than ever before, finally slipping past the ring of muscle when you moaned out your release. “Fuck, Bucky!”

“Mmm,” he hummed, clearly pleased with himself, and ran his tongue over you, lapping up your release. “You taste so good, baby.”

A quiver caused your thighs to shake and finally had him removing his face from between your legs. He gave the plug a testing pull, making you moan, before gently caressing your cheek. “Wait right there,” he said and placed a kiss on your sacrum.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you sighed, happy and relaxed with the intense sensations thrumming through your body.

He only chuckled as he darted around the bed to dig through the box with your gift and return with a pretty pair of black lace panties. “Turn over, doll. Let’s get you into these.”

You did so gingerly, finding the new plug a little bigger than usual but not unpleasantly so, and held out your feet for his assistance.

“You know how much I love you, right?” he asked as he slipped the underwear up your legs.

“Yeah, Buck. I know.” You smiled and touched his cheek.

He brought you to your feet and pulled your underwear the rest of the way up. They snugged between your cheeks, and you gasped, finding the fit tight enough to rub in a few sensitive places. He cupped your face and held you there, staring deep into your eyes. “You know I’d do anything to make you happy, right?”

“Yeah, of course. I would for you, too. What’s this about, Bucky?” You frowned.

He kissed you, and you tasted yourself on his lips and tongue. “Just… have an open mind and know I love you. Nothing will ever change that. Nothing!” he growled. “Now, get dressed and meet us in the living room.” He wiped his thumb beneath your eye, removing what must have been a smear of makeup.

“Yes, sir!” you quipped, snapping a salute only to gasp at the sensation in your lower body.

He chuckled wickedly and tweaked your nippled. “No lip. I wanna see you in that dress, baby girl.”

“Go wash your face, Barnes.” You rolled your eyes and headed for the dress, finding your groove as your body adjusted to the feeling of fullness.

 _Fuck_! It felt good, and you were in for a long night, but you knew Bucky would make it worth your while.

You listened to him putter in the bathroom and picked the dress back up. It was strapless, but had a built-in bra and short stays, giving your well-endowed chest support. The water turned off, and you glanced over your shoulder when Bucky returned with his jacket.

He pressed a kiss to your bare nape and slipped out the door, leaving you to dress in peace.

A side zipper gave you the ability to step in, shimmy the dress up, situate everything correctly and not twist yourself into a pretzel to get it zipped. The shiny fabric was beautiful and soft. The boning had you feeling comfortable with the amount of cleavage you were showing.

It tucked in nicely at your waist, rounded over your hips and hugged your ass. The dress was a lot more fitted than you'd typically wear, and you sat slowly to put on the shoes he'd added to his gift before walking into the bathroom to check your hair and makeup.

A quiet gasp left your lips for the short dress, and ample mound of cleavage was far riskier than anything you would have picked for yourself, but Bucky liked to push you out of your comfort zone.

He loved you, admired your curves, and always encouraged you to show them off. This was definitely in that realm, and you thought _screw it_! This was Vegas! If you were gonna go full sex kitten, what better place than here?

Add in your ode to Elvis with your blue suede shoes, and you were going to fit in just fine. The thought made you giggle as you opened the door and walked out into the communal living area.

Both your guys were looking dapper in their own version of Vegas glam gorgeous suits, enjoying a glass of something which was likely whiskey, until the click of your heels on the marble drew their attention. They turned toward you and had their jaws drop.

“Wow,” Steve breathed.

“Damn,” Bucky coughed, nearly choking on his drink. “C’mere, darlin’. I need to see this up close.”

You blushed but made your way over to them, ignoring as best you could how things pulled and rubbed, unaware of the sultry way the addition made you move.

Bucky’s grin looked about to split his face when he held out his hand. You took it, and he had you turn a circle. “Yeah, I'm gonna go with Steve on this one. Wow, doll. I knew that dress would look amazing on you but fuck me! I did good!”

“It's not too… short?” you asked, giving the bottom a tug.

“Nah, doll face,” Steve shook his head, his eyes dark and warm. “You wear it just right.”

“Thank you, Steve,” you murmured, your blush growing.

Bucky elbowed him gently. “You got something for our girl, pal?”

“Right! Right,” Steve fumbled in his inner coat pocket and pulled out a long and narrow velvet box. “This should match pretty good, actually,” he said as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

“Steve, you didn't have to,” you murmured as he handed over the box.

“Of course I did! You're my,” he swallowed hard, “best girl.”

“Open it, (Y/N),” Bucky urged, grinning at Steve.

You snapped the lid open and gasped in surprise. On a delicate silver chain hung a circular locket no bigger than a quarter. Red and blue stones were set into a silver disc in the shape of Cap’s shield.

“I know how much you like the actual Marvel version of the film and those guys in it, Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan, so when I saw this, I figured it would be a way for you to fangirl a little as well as it being… kinda an inside joke.” He reached toward the box and flipped the pendant over, showing you the back which was silver with a single red star in the middle. “I thought, maybe, it would be a way to wear both of us, uh, close to your heart?” The tips of his ears were red by the time he finished speaking.

“Steve… it’s perfect!” You smiled and held the box out. “I love it. Would you?” As you turned to give him your back so he could place the necklace around your throat, you caught the strange side-eye he and Bucky shared but ignored it. They'd been doing that a lot lately.

The pendant dangled before your face, and you touched it when it landed on your chest. Big warm hands worked the small clasp and settled the chain at the back of your neck.

“There,” he murmured, sliding his palms over your shoulders.

The touch lifted the hair on your nape, but you ignored it and turned to throw your arms around him, giving him a tight hug. “Thank you, Steve. It’s beautiful.”

He held you just as tightly, his hands drawing you hard against him, almost as if he were afraid to let you go. Then, Bucky’s hands landed on your waist, and he pressed up behind you, sandwiching you between the two of them. Steve’s cheek was against yours, his breath a warm wash over your shoulder, while Bucky placed an open-mouthed kiss on your nape.

You bit back a moan, fought down a shudder, called yourself a pervert, and gave a giddy giggle which set both men chuckling.

Bucky scraped his teeth down your neck. “Best part of a sandwich is always the middle.”

“Get off me you big oaf!” you scolded before kissing Steve’s cheek. “You did good, Stevie.”

Red tinted his cheeks when he pulled away and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, well, you make it easy, doll face.”

You stepped back to give them both a once over, smirking when they grinned at you. “Damn. I’m going to make all the girls jealous tonight. I have the two best looking dates in all of Vegas.”

“You’d best stick close to us, baby girl,” Bucky chuckled as he linked your right arm through his left. “The way you look tonight?” He whistled his appreciation. “Ain’t nobody gonna be looking at Stevie or me.”

Steve tucked your left arm through his right. “Damn straight, Buck. She’s gonna have everyone in the joint itchin’ to dance with her.”

“Guess we’d best let everyone know just where she belongs right up front,” Bucky agreed.

You burst out laughing at their posturing. “Yeah, right between Captain Assmerica and the Winter Smolder,” you teased.

“Exactly,” Bucky purred.

His eyes held that same light of excitement, and you shivered, wondering what he was up to. Your stomach, however, was a welcome distraction when it growled loudly and made Steve laugh.

“Food first, though,” he chuckled, and the three of you headed for the door.

***

You groaned a little when you settled gingerly on Bucky’s thigh and draped your arm around his neck. “Oh, man. That was the best meal ever.”

“Did you overeat, darlin’?” he chuckled, utterly unsympathetic to your plight.

“Maybe. Little,” you pouted.

The entire family of cast and crew had turned out for dinner and to celebrate the success of the convention’s first night. Yes, it was also your birthday, to which the Starks had produced an enormous cake, and everyone had sung before you’d blown out the candles, but the weekend wasn’t just about you. Still, the meal had been fantastic, the food divine, and you’d stolen bites from both Bucky and Steve, and snagged a shrimp from Sam, needing to taste everything because… _damn_. It was all so good!

The party had then moved from the rooftop dining room to the black and red washed club on one of the lower levels where the VIP section had been held in reserve for Stark Films.

The couches were thick and plush, the lights low, creating deep shadows, and while the music was loud out on the dance floor, away from it in the lounge section you and Bucky were currently snuggled up in, it wasn’t nearly so grating.

He pulled you deeper into his lap, his hand lightly tracing circles on your thigh. The wine had been flowing at dinner, and you were riding a rather pleasant buzz, so when his fingers delved a little higher to skate beneath the hem of your dress, you didn’t bat his hand away.

“How you feeling, _malyutka_?” he rumbled against your ear and smoothed his hand knowingly over your bottom.

“Mmm, fine. The chairs at dinner were a little… hard.” You’d been a bit uncomfortable but otherwise hadn’t paid much mind to his gift.

“Bet those panties of yours are soaked through, aren’t they, doll?” His hand crept a little higher.

“Bucky!” you hissed.

“No one cares, and no one is watching,” he huffed, glancing around the room. “Let me see, baby.” He tugged you up until you were sitting astride his thighs.

Your dress rode higher, but you ignored it when you cast a wary glance around the dark interior of the VIP lounge. You could see a few moving shadows in a few corners, but really it was too dark to tell at a distance who was who or what they were up to, and you turned back to Bucky. “You wanna see do you?” you teased quietly.

“Yeah, baby.” His fingers snaked beneath your dress and began to rub gently against the lace stretched tight over your core. “Look at you, darlin’. Soaked alright. You been getting turned on with that plug in your ass?”

“Bucky,” you sighed, petting his chest, loving the feel of his muscles beneath your fingers.

His fingers disappeared, and you groaned.

“Incoming,” he muttered, shifting you down to his side when Nat and Wanda hurried toward you.

“C’mon, birthday girl! We’re doing a round of shots, and then we are going to dance until it’s time to drink more!” Natasha grabbed you by the hand and dragged you away from Bucky, Wanda grinning and giggling the entire time.

“Be good to my girl!” Bucky called after you.

Pepper and Jennifer were waiting with said shots when you made it back out into the club, and you all downed the round together before heading out onto the hardwood to dance and shimmy the night away.

You hadn’t, however, realized just how stimulating moving like that would be with your special addition, and found yourself warming and blushed hotly, blaming the alcohol when Pepper asked if you were alright. More shots followed more dancing, and soon you just let yourself relax into the pleasure coursing through your body.

You danced with Sam, Tony, and Clint. Did body shots with Thor because why not? The man was practically a god and licking salt off his abs was okay by you. You found yourself charmed by Loki and laughing with Bruce.

The night wore on, and you were feeling happy, floaty, and ridiculously aroused when the slower song came on. You swayed alone to the music beneath the shifting lights of the dance floor when the girls darted away for more drinks.

Then, large hands and strong arms wrapped around you from behind, and you fell back into the broad chest. He didn’t say anything, didn’t have to, only danced with you slowly. His hands caressed your hips, your sides, your thighs. They wrapped beneath your breasts and pressed against your abdomen.

You closed your eyes, wallowing in the sensation as he moved with you and grew aroused, the hard length nudging into your backside. You snickered softly and ground into him, releasing a sultry laugh when he growled in your ear.

When the second body pressed into your front, and big hands latched onto your hips, your eyes shot open, and you gasped to find Bucky in front of you, not behind like you’d thought.

“Bucky?” You wrenched your head around. “Steve?”

Bucky’s hand caught your chin, and he encouraged you to look at him. “Baby, don’t think. Just dance.” He kissed you then, soft and tender, melting your tension and resistance.

You leaned back into Steve though you wrapped one arm around Bucky’s neck. His thigh slipped between yours as the three of you began to move again. Steve seemed to know just how to move his hips to thrust your aching core into Bucky’s thigh. A gasp escaped you with a particularly firm roll, and you moaned into Bucky’s mouth. An answering one vibrated against your back, and the length of steel pressed to your buttocks seemed to swell even bigger.

A second mouth appeared suddenly on your neck. Teeth sank gently into your shoulder. Bucky’s tongue swept into your mouth while Steve’s licked the length of your throat.

It was like your heart pulsed between your legs. You’d never been so close to coming with such little play. “Oh, god,” whispered from you when Bucky pushed closer, dragged you down harder on his thigh. Steve’s hand came up slowly to finally cup your tingling breast and give it a squeeze.

You body exploded, detonated right there in the middle of the dance floor, and left you shaken. They held you sandwiched between them as the music changed until your legs worked again, then, swiftly marched you from the dance floor to the side where you looked at Bucky with wide eyes.

“What… what…?” you had no words.

Bucky was looking at you like he was waiting for something. Steve wouldn’t look at you at all. You could only stare at the two of them incredulous and at a loss.

Finally, when the silence dragged on, Bucky took the lead. “I think we should go upstairs and have a talk, baby girl.”

“Yah think, Barnes? What the hell?” you burst out, making Steve flinch.

“C’mon.” He took you by the elbow and led you out, Steve following like a scolded puppy.

He looked as hurt and upset as he had earlier that day, and you wanted to reach out, take his hand, but you were so damn confused! What the hell was going on?

Silence followed the three of you as you made your way through the casino floor, down corridors, and got on the elevator. The world swam a little, but this whole escapade was sobering you swiftly. Once you reached the suite, you walked inside and straight out of your shoes.

“Plant your ass, Steven,” Bucky said, pointing at the couch.

“Buck… maybe this wasn’t…”

“Sit down and shut up,” Bucky growled at him, then grabbed your hand and sat you down between himself and Steve. “Now, doll face. Tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.”

“What the hell was that?” you asked quietly.

“First, did you hate it?” he countered.

You twisted your fingers in your lap. Guilt rippled in your heart but you’d never lied to him, and you weren’t about to start now. “No,” you whispered and looked away.

“Baby.” He caught your chin and turned your face back to his, but you couldn’t look him in the eyes. “Hey, darlin’. We’re just talking. There ain’t nothing to be upset about.”

“But I-” you protested only to have him lay his finger on your lips.

“You think I’m blind?” he asked with a smile. “That I don’t know you’ve got some pretty serious feelings for Stevie?”

You paled, all the blood leaving your face. “Bucky, I-”

Again he shushed you. “Baby, it’s okay. You’ve got a really big heart, darlin’. Really big. There’s so much love in it. I ain’t surprised you’ve got enough for another.”

“No, no, that’s not how it works!” you protested, shaking your head. “I’m your wife. I love you, Bucky!”

“I know that, dollface,” he smiled and cupped your cheeks. “Loving Stevie’s not going to take that away. I know that. I’m not so insecure to think you’d push me away to make room for him. You haven’t. I mean, you’ve been pining after him for a couple years now.”

The blood rushed back in a hurry and made you lightheaded when you turned what had to be a deep shade of scarlet.

“But I… that’s just… it’s so selfish,” you finally managed to whisper.

“Is it selfish of Wanda and Vision to love and include Jennifer?”

“Well... no.”

“And it ain’t selfish if Steve’s in love with you too, baby girl.”

“What!” you gasped, looking at Steve.

“There’s a reason I can’t find a girl, (Y/N). Bucky already found her,” Steve murmured sadly.

“I don’t understand what’s happening?” you whispered, dropping your chin down to peer at your tightly clenched hands, heart full of terror and confusion and something akin to tentative hope.

“Baby,” Bucky breathed against your shoulder, moving to press himself against your back, and hold you tightly. “I love you with everything I am, and I love Steve with my whole heart. He’s my brother and my best friend. If I were going to do something like this, it would only ever be for him. He loves you so much. If it was what you wanted, I wouldn’t be upset by the idea of sharing you with him.”

Your heart slammed to a halt, then sped like a galloping horse. “Wha-what!”

He turned with you, so you were forced to face a nervous, hopeful-looking Steve seated in the corner of the couch. “Look at him, darlin’. You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about. I know you’ve watched him work and wondered. It’s okay. Wouldn’t you like to know what all the fuss is about?” He chuckled when Steve flipped him the bird.

Steve sat up slowly, pushing away from the corner to lean toward you unhurriedly. “Buck’s right, sweetheart. You’re my girl. My best girl. I can’t think of anyone I’d rather love and cherish more than you.”

“Steve…” your gaze dropped to his lips. “Bucky…”

“Do it, _moya zvezdochka_. Kiss him. I know you want to,” he whispered against your cheek.

Steve slid closer, his hand lifted to lay lightly on your jaw. Moist air brushed your lips, and you shuddered in longing. “This isn’t because of this morning, right?” you whispered needing to be certain.

“No, darlin’. This morning and what you said to me after… just after, simply made me want you more.” His thumb gently brushed your jaw. “You’re like sunshine, (Y/N). You came into my life in my darkest moment, and you’ve brightened every day. I tried to move on, but I can’t. You snuck into my heart, Buck’s girl, and I fell so stupidly in love with you I was terrified I’d say or do something that would let you know and chase you away or hurt Buck.”

“Steve,” you sighed.

His gaze drifted down to your lips. “You’re so damn sweet. So perfect.”

You pressed your mouth to his and sighed when he took over, coaxing your lips apart with his tongue, twisting and twining it with yours, tasting every part of your lips and teeth while he gently caressed your face.

Bucky’s arm remained around your waist, but it was relaxed, watching as you kissed his friend and learned everything you could about Steve’s mouth. He tasted as good as you'd always imagined and when you pulled back, it took a moment for Steve to open his eyes.

They were hazy, clouded with lust and longing, a desperate hope and much apprehension. His cheeks were flushed, his breathing ragged, and he held himself so tightly he looked about to break.

You reached out and brushed his cheek with your fingertips, moving over to lightly trace his lips, causing him to relax a little.

Bucky's hand wrapped around your throat, his fingers gentle and stroking. “Whatcha think, darlin’? Steve pretty good with his tongue? You want to know what it feels like on the rest of you?”

You gave a slow nod, feeling as if you were swimming in syrup, your mind fumbling to follow the plot of the fairy tale you'd fallen into.

It seemed surreal; watching Steve smile at you as he shrugged out of his jacket. He rolled up his sleeves, revealing those long, defined forearms, making you swallow thickly at the dexterity of his hands.

Bucky chuckled and shifted behind you, drawing you back into his lap and down between his spread thighs where your hands fell to find purchase on something, anything to anchor you in the moment. “Stop teasing, Stevie, and show our girl what you can do with that tongue.”

“Don't rush me, Buck. I've wanted this… so long.” He took a deep breath and slid closer again.

His hands landed lightly on your knees. They skimmed up your thighs, and you shivered, a whimper slipping from your lips.

“You with me, darlin’?” Steve murmured, creeping closer. His knee landed on the sofa beside Bucky’s as he crawled up your body to hover over you, his mouth back to being exceptionally close.

“Huh?” you squeaked.

He chuckled and nudged his other knee between your thighs. “Do you want this? Do you want… me?”

You glanced back at Bucky but found only sultry dark eyes and an encouraging smile. “You're really okay with this?”

Bucky’s fingers stroked down your throat, over your chest, and came to rest on your breast. He squeezed gently and rocked his hips up into your back, forcing you to feel just how okay he was with it. “Baby, I really am.”

And you knew he was but only because it was Steve. It wasn’t like you weren’t aware they’d shared women. With their jobs, of course, they had. But this, again, was different. It wasn’t sex for the sake of the camera. It was an acknowledgment of feelings. Of love returned. Between you and Steve, and between Bucky and you both. He loved enough, trusted enough, felt safe enough to open an option you’d never even considered.

“(Y/N)?” Steve asked.

“I want you,” you whispered, reaching to touch his face a second time, drawing him down for another kiss, and moaning into his mouth when Bucky’s went to work on your throat.

Bucky’s hands began a slow massage of your breasts, sending heat singing straight down your body to center between your thighs. Steve’s hands crept up, stroked up, squeezed gently when he slowly pushed your dress higher. He pressed your knees apart while Bucky pulled your zipper down, dipped his hands into the top of your dress, and lifted your breasts free of the fabric.

Steve nipped his teeth into your lip and pulled back as your lashes fluttered open. When you’d closed your eyes, you couldn’t have pinpointed if someone paid you.

His were the stunning bright blue you knew so well, but with little flecks of green appearing around the pupil you’d never noticed before. His heart lived in them, and he looked at you for a long moment before finally letting his gaze fall to the mounds of flesh Bucky had exposed.

“Fuck me,” he gasped.

“I know, right?” Bucky chuckled, rolling your nipple between his finger and thumb. “Your so damn sexy, baby.”

“When they dressed her up as your fluffer, Jesus, Buck! I damn near blew my load, but I never expected… fuck me…” He slipped from the sofa to settle on the floor between your knees. His hands drifted up to your waist, up a little higher, hovered at your ribcage. “Can I touch you, doll face?”

You gave a swift, sharp nod and dug your nails into Bucky’s thighs. Your heart pounded so hard, you were surprised it didn’t burst from your chest. Anticipation warred with anxiety and swam with the last remaining fog of alcohol as one kind of buzz faded to be replaced by another.

Already it was overwhelming, the touch of two sets of hands. The sensation speared through your body. Whips of lightning seared your nerve endings and flooded your core.

Steve pressed forward, cupped and weighed one mound while Bucky attended to the other.

Your head fell back on Bucky’s shoulder when all new pleasure sent you soaring with the dual touch. “Shit…”

“Yeah? Is it good, baby?” Bucky asked.

“Yeah,” you sighed and moaned when a warm mouth closed over your breast.

Steve sucked and played and tongued your nipple with rather apparent skill. His teeth scraped, and you whimpered, arching into his mouth and loving the sensation.

“People always call Loki the one with the silver tongue because he sounds so pretty when he talks, but it’s really Steve. Steve has his own hidden talents, don’t you, pal?”

“A few,” Steve chuckled, continuing to lick and suck your nipple, switching to the other side when Bucky offered it to him.

“Maybe you should head south and show our girl your favourite thing.”

“Oh, I don’t know, Buck. She seems to be enjoying my mouth right where it is.”

“But it’s her birthday, Steve. We gotta give her the second part of her gift,” he murmured and bit down on your pulse point.

Your entire body jerked and throbbed. “I agree with Bucky,” you moaned, inhibitions and apprehensions lost beneath the flood of pleasure filling your body.

“Yah, doll?” Steve smirked, his hands sliding up your thighs to snake beneath your dress and find your underwear. He brushed his fingertips up your core, over the lace, and groaned. “God, you’re soaked, sweetheart. Absolutely drenched. You want me to take care of that for you? Clean you up and make you feel good, baby?”

“Yes! Fuck!” you whined when Bucky pinched your nipples.

Steve snickered as he reached for your hips, found the edge of lace, drew them down your legs, and off your feet to throw them over his shoulder. Bucky’s hands dropped to your thighs, encouraging them apart, but you stiffened for a moment, a sudden shot of nerves filling you.

“Bucky…” A flush filled your face when you darted your gaze to his.

“ _Moya zvezdochka_ , you’re perfect, your body is a wonderland, and Steve ain’t gonna have any issues with our… playing.” He grinned wickedly.

You relaxed enough to let him draw your legs apart, your skirt riding all the way up when he lifted your knees over his to hold you open for Steve’s perusal.

But a frown had clouded Steve’s features, and his gaze had returned to your face. “You can change your mind or stop at any time, doll if you're not ready or we’re moving too fast.”

“No!” you yelped and blushed crimson. “I-I… I just…”

“She thinks you'll take issue with our current kink play,” Bucky supplied.

Steve’s frown deepened before his eyes widened and his gaze darted down. The sound he made was somewhere between a whimper and a growl and made you snort out a high pitched giggle.

“Fuck me sideways. Oh, shit.” He palmed himself through his pants and swallowed hard. “Yah, baby that ain't a problem… like, at all.”

“Steve’s got a… _healthy_ appreciation for a little anal play in a woman,” Bucky chuckled.

“Darlin’, oh, baby…” Steve licked his lips, his hand flexing on your thigh, the other still jacking his length through his pants. “You just keep turning out more and more perfect. I gotta get my mouth on you.” His hands went beneath your ass and hitched you forward. “Fuck, you even smell delicious and look at you all waxed. God, your skin is so soft.” He didn't stop talking until his tongue slid through your folds, and then his moan echoed yours.

Bucky chuckled and worked your breasts, knowing just what you liked. His hands were big, his touch firm, and he rolled your nipples with a skill born of familiarity.

Steve, however, just had skills.

You loved it when Bucky went down on you. He was exceptionally good at it, but Steve had _skills_!

“Oh, jeez!” you gasped when his tongue flicked over your clit and then pressed deep inside. “How long is your tongue?”

“It ain't the length, baby girl, it's how you use it,” Steve chuckled, the vibration washing through your core. “You're so fucking sexy, sweetheart,” he murmured laying soft kisses to you bare lips while he circled your opening with his fingers. Another dual groan escaped you both when he pressed them inside. “Christ! That's a big one, doll. You been wearing this all night?”

“Bucky… birthday…” you whimpered and rocked into his hand.

“Did Buck get this for you special? Did he work you up and help put it in? Fuck, it's so sexy. You've got me worked up. I'm so damn hard.”

You watched him grip himself a second time as he continued to talk and somehow still lick and suck and tease you until your thighs quaked with the tightly strung coil in your belly. His fingers worked in tandem with his tongue, rubbing against the plug, or turning to coax sparks of sensation from your g-spot.

The flutter in your belly kept growing, getting bigger until you felt like you would scream if they didn't let you come soon, and you lifted a hand from Bucky’s thigh to sink it into Steve’s hair.

“That's it, doll. Relax and enjoy. Let go. Come all over Steve's face!” Bucky growled in your ear.

Bucky’s teeth closed on your pulse point. Steve's fingers pressed up, his lips sealed to your clit, and the coil in your belly didn't snap, it _shattered_.

You keened, there was no other word for it when your walls clamped around Steve’s fingers. Your fingers close in his hair and dug into Bucky’s thigh in a grip which had to hurt.

“Fuck,” Bucky groaned, his hands stalling on your breasts.

“Damn…” Steve moaned. “So fucking hot.”

You panted through the pulsing pleasure, Steve's fingers continuing to stroke slowly through your clenching core. “Enough,” you begged, shoving weakly against him.

“Oh, darlin’,” Bucky crooned. “We're only just getting started.” He kissed your cheek gently. “Get back up on the couch, Stevie.”

Steve's blue eyes were nearly black when he shifted from the floor to sprawl across the opposite corner of the couch; his pupils so large they filled his irises. He palmed his length, the thick, hard shaft pressing tightly against his zipper, while a flush coloured his cheeks.

“Look at him, baby,” Bucky murmured shifting the two of you so you could bring your feet back to the floor. “Look how wrecked he is and he hasn't even gotten his clothes off. You do that to us, (Y/N). You make us hard just by breathing, doll face.”

You were panting a little by the time he finished, renewed heat curling in your belly. Steve’s eyes seemed to beckon you toward him, the lazy stroking he gave to his cock filling you with a want to do so yourself.

“Why don't you show Steve why you can break even my control, baby. Touch him. You know you want to. Touch him, doll face… and I'll touch you,” he crooned softly, his hands returning to lift and squeeze your breasts.

It was as if he’d become a magician, his words the magic ones which had you pushing slowly from his lap to place your hands on Steve’s thighs. Your knee went to the cushions, and you crawled your way up Steve’s body.

“Steve,” you sighed softly, slowly beginning to work the buttons free on his shirt to reveal his well-defined chest.

Disbelief shimmered in his eyes. He, like you, lost in a fog of pleasure, unable to truly believe this was really happening. “(Y/N),” he whispered, bringing his hands to your thighs. “You're so beautiful.”

Fingertips trailed your spine, collecting the fabric of your dress and pulling it over your hips. “Lift your knee, baby.”

You did as Bucky commanded, sighing at the sensual touch, ignoring the momentary shot of alarm at being fully naked when lips pressed a sultry kiss to your lower back.

“Fucking beautiful, baby,” Bucky murmured.

“So damn sexy,” Steve agreed, his hands caressing your sides.

Bucky’s glided over your ass when you leaned down to press soft kisses to the newly exposed flesh of Steve’s chest.

He was big, thick with defined muscle. Bucky was a little stockier while Steve ran more lean. Both were just such gorgeous men, you had no idea how you'd gotten so lucky and shook a little when you tugged Steve’s shirt from his pants.

Always so in tune with you, Bucky stroked your skin with soothing hands. “We got you, doll face.”

Your hands went to Steve’s belt, and you worked it free slowly, afraid to fumble with how your hands quaked. You couldn't help but brush against the hard length of him with each pull and tug, and he groaned, his head falling back on the couch.

It made you smile, knowing you weren't the only one so affected.

His zipper came down with a strained moan, allowing the hard length of aroused flesh to spring forth.

It made you gasp and then giggle. “Commando, Captain? Really?”

“Darlin,” he growled and sank his hand into your hair. “Don't call me Captain unless you want this to end _a lot_ sooner than I've planned.”

“I knew you liked that role more than you let on, Stevie.” You wrapped your hand around him, well aware of just how beautiful his cock was after watching their movie. Thick and long, heavily veined with a wide ridge. He was longer than Bucky, but Buck had him when it came to girth. Fuck, they were such a pair. _What the hell were you going to do with them?_

“You're gonna let us take care of you, baby girl,” Bucky murmured, tapping his finger against your plug and sending sensations singing through your body. “But you need to show Steve how good your mouth is first, _moya zvezdochka_. Drive him wild like you do me, love.”

You hadn't meant to say what you had aloud and blushed, but Steve's smile was sweet as he slowly pulled the pins from your hair.

“Can you show me how you broke the Stamina King, (Y/N)? I'm dyin’ to know. Been wondering for years,” Steve murmured.

“Are you sure you want to know?” you teased softly, stroking you fist up his cock with a slow twist.

“Jesus… fuck!” he hissed. “Yeah, yeah, baby! Please, baby girl?”

You'd never heard him sound like that before. Wrecked and pleading. He was always in command anytime you'd caught him “in action”. To hear him beg made you feel powerful.

“Okay, Stevie,” you said, sliding your free hand down his chest. “You gonna be a good boy for me? Hold real still?”

Excitement flared to life on his face. “Yes, ma’am.”

“I don't need you to choke me with this.” You gave his length another firm stroke. “Least… not until I ask you to.”

“Fuck! Anything you say, doll face!” He nodded vigorously.

Bucky chuckled darkly, continuing to stroke his hands over your back and ass. “Look at that, Stevie. She found your secret kink without even trying.”

“Bite me, Barnes!” he huffed.

You tsked and flexed your nails into his abdomen, drawing his gaze back to you with an almost audible snap. “Now, now, Steven. The only Barnes who'll be sinking their teeth into you… is me.” You swiped your tongue over the head of his cock with the final word and made him jolt.

“Anywhere you like, sweetheart!” he gasped.

You laughed and licked the base of his shaft. “Anywhere?” Gently, you scraped your teeth along the thick vein and nipped at his tip.

“Maybe… not there,” he whined, wrapping your hair around his fist.

“I think, Steven, you'd let me do whatever I wished, hmm?”

“Please, baby! Fuck, sweetheart!”

Sweat had begun to form on his abdominals from holding himself so still. You bypassed his cock to lick and suck the flexed muscle. He groaned, and you snickered.

“Baby, cut the guy a break,” Bucky murmured, stroking his fingers through your wet folds to torment you in kind.

A whimper left your lips, and you relented to sweep your tongue around Steve’s tip and slide him into your mouth. The sound he made had a spike of lust slamming through your body and caused your core to clench.

A growl and a whimper and a whine shuddered from between Steve’s lips. His hand closed in your hair, a gentle flex of spasming fingers. The abs you’d licked but seconds ago clenched hard, and he let his head fall back on the couch.

You’d never felt more powerful than right that second.

“There you go, doll face. You’re gonna make him lose his shit, baby girl.” Bucky shifted behind you, the sound of clothing being loosened and falling to the ground secondary to the moans coming from the man held captive by your mouth.

You tightened the suction on Steve’s cock, pulling free with a distinct pop, and peered up to watch him pant for a moment before lowering your mouth back onto his length. You let your world narrow to the length of flesh between your lips, focusing on slicking your tongue over and around him, catching the wide ridge with gentle scrapes of teeth, and keeping up a pleasing rhythm of stroke and twist with your hands.

Once he’d settled into your pace, relaxing a little as he found some control, you let your hands fall to his thighs and took him deep, all the way to the back of your throat.

“Fucking shit!” he bellowed, nearly coming off the couch.

Bucky laughed, his voice physically much lower than it should have been. “I did warn you,” he muttered, the sound muffled when he pressed his tongue to your core.

A shocked moan skated through you and Steve swore softly, his hand clenching on the arm of the couch. It made you want to laugh, but the way Bucky was sucking obscenely on your pussy was enough to kill your amusement. It felt ridiculously amazing, especially when he began to play with his birthday gift, pulling and turning the plug to send sparks of pleasure racing up your spine.

“Don’t come, _moya zvezdochka_ ,” he warned, and you whimpered.

“Son of a bitch!” Steve hissed. “Baby, baby… baby...your gonna… fuck!” He jerked your hair roughly. “Shit! Sweetheart, please!”

You sucked slowly, drawing your lips up his shaft as his thighs quaked beneath your hands. Sliding him from your mouth, you whimpered when Bucky sent a particularly hard bolt of pleasure through your loins.

Steve’s eyes were nearly feral when you lifted your gaze to his, and his breath heaved from him in short pants. “Dammit, darlin’,” he wheezed.

You gave his wet cock a stroke with your hand and made him whine, but Bucky wasn’t playing fair, and your eyes closed on a heady moan. “Bucky…” It felt so good, so intensely good, you could feel whips of sensation stroking your nerve endings, sliding through your limbs to make you shake. Slick and smooth, the tip of Steve’s cock brushed your lips in a sinful kiss when your head bowed, and you brought him back into your mouth, intent on making him feel as good as you currently did.

“God… fuck…” he groaned.

Bucky tugged gently on the plug, and you shuddered, heat growing in your belly again, suffusing your limbs and making you weak. Thick fingers slid slowly into your clenching walls, stretching you open. He pressed outward and your body spasmed around his fingers.

“Don’t do it, doll face,” he growled.

You arched your back, released Steve with a wet slurp and gasped for breath, forcing back the rising orgasm. “Bucky… Bucky.”

A growl rippled through your core before he pulled away. “Good girl.”

You leaned into Steve, forehead resting on his chest while your body burned and you shook with longing. He twitched in your hand, but you were locked in your body, feeling the pulsing pleasure as it slowly tapered off. Big hands carded through your hair while more caressed your back and hips.

Bucky pulled you back, bringing you to sit on his naked lap. “Get outta that suit, Steve,” he murmured right before he kissed you, stealing your attention from Steven as you turned into Bucky, clinging to his shoulders when he stole into your mouth and took your breath.

“You looked amazing, doll face,” he murmured, “treating Steve so good. Fucking hot to watch you suck his dick, baby. Got me so hard.”

You found him pressed against your thigh and stroked him like you had Steve. “Yeah? Pervert,” you giggled, making him growl.

“You ain’t seen pervert yet. I wanna watch you ride him, baby. Slide that sexy pussy down his dick and let it stretch you open. Wanna watch you come all over his cock, fuck him real good, and then, right as your coming down from your high, I’m gonna take that plug from your ass and fill you up real nice. You up for that, darlin’? Want to take us both together?”

Excitement exploded with nerves. It was something you’d secretly always found intriguing, but you’d never said anything, worried Bucky would be hurt by your curiosity. Apparently, that was not the case… like, at all.

“Bucky…”

“You want that, don’t you, (Y/N)?” he asked and nipped your lip, slowly working his lips along your jaw and down your throat to bite at your shoulder.

“Yes,” you sighed, tilting your head back to give him better access.

The tearing of a foil packet had you glancing over your shoulder to a completely naked Steve, watching you fondly as you made out with Bucky, while slowly rolling the condom down his cock. You whimpered softly in want.

Bucky chuckled. “You want that, don’t you, baby? Steve’s rather proud of his cock.”

Steve snorted. “Like you’re not?”

“Never said that,” Bucky smirked at him.

Steve returned to the couch and gripped you by the waist, taking you from Bucky and bringing you down over his lap. They were both so strong it gave you such a thrill.

He held you close, and you cupped his face. “Steve,” whispered from your lips.

“I want you so bad.”

It was all you needed to hear as you kissed him and lifted up to shuffle your knees closer. His hand went to his cock, and you shuddered when his tip caressed your lips, notching securely against your core.

You looked to Bucky a final time, still having difficulty believing he was, truly, alright with what you were about to do, but the look of lust and love on his face and the way he sat there, stroking slowly over his cock with lazy expectancy, settled your mind.

Steve touched your face, his fingers sliding down your cheek to caress your jaw and wrap around the back of your neck. “(Y/N)... please, sweetheart.”

Pleading eyes and slight desperation made you smile. “You want me, Stevie?”

“Oh, darling… so bad.” He squeezed the back of your neck and shuddered out a breath. His hand flexed on your hip, twitched against you as he forced himself not to just drag you down his length.

“Stop teasing the poor man, doll,” Bucky chuckled.

You threw him a smirk, placed your hands on Steve’s wide chest, and slowly let your body slide down his cock. “Fuck…” you moaned. It was a tight fit.

“Jesus…” Steve sighed, his head clunking against the back of the couch.

He was only halfway in, and you were feeling so damn full. A whimper escaped you. A moan slipped from him. A growl came from Bucky, watching with hot eyes. You arched your spine, taking Steve deeper. The sensation was exquisite, mind-blowing, body shaking. The plug was bigger than you were used to, Steve longer, and when your center met his, you paused to drag in gasps of air.

“Breath, baby,” Steve whispered, his face flushed and eyes dark.

“That’s… really intense,” you moaned.

“Take a minute,” Steve sighed, rubbing your back and down to squeeze both hands on your hips. “You've got the greatest ass,” he said suddenly. “Just lush and round. Those little shorts you wear at home? The blue ones you always say make you look three feet wide? They're the sexiest damn things because they are so tight. I damn near swallow my tongue when you wear ‘em. Want to rip them down and sink my dick inside you. Bend you over the sofa or the kitchen island and make you scream. Watch you suck Bucky’s dick while I pound this fucking tight pussy of yours.”

“Fuck… Stevie.”

“I think she likes that idea, Steve,” Bucky murmured. “You know, she has a tendency to not wear underwear with those shorts.”

“Fuck you, Barnes!” he gasped his cock jerking and making you groan. “How the hell am I supposed to concentrate on not coming like a virgin with that thought in my brain?”

“I can help you focus,” you said right before lifting up and grinding back down.

“Jesus!” he wheezed. “Baby… baby… yes,” he moaned.

“You feel… good, Stevie.”

“Just good, doll face?” Bucky asked.

“Amazing,” you sighed, whimpering when he bottomed out roughly. Your hands slipped up to cling to his neck, hold on tightly as you began a slow ride, a gentle grind and roll.

Steve’s hands tightened around your waist, helping you move in a steady rhythm which seemed to please you both rather well. Your forehead fell to rest on his, breath panting together, mouths close and hearts beating hard. The necklace he’d given you swinging gently against your chest. He felt fantastic, hard and long, reaching places so deep you hadn’t known they were sensitive. He had to work a little harder to catch your g-spot, unlike Bucky, but made up for it in the continual bumps he was giving to your cervix.

With the press of the plug tightening your core, you were getting more than enough friction to have you seeing stars.

Stars. Fireworks. Nuclear explosions. All seemed to be going off in your belly, brought on by the drag of his amazing cock through your walls. “Oh, my god… Steven…”

His hand gripped your ass, and the other went to your breast, lifting it up to worship your peaked flesh. Suck and lick and tease your nipple. “Look at you. So pretty. You ride my cock so good, baby. You’ve got such a nice cunt. Hot and wet and so damn tight. Bet you’re just as tight without your little toy. Bet you’ll love having the two of us in there. You’re gonna come so hard. Scream and cry and soak my dick.”

He bit your nipple, and you felt your orgasm surge, beginning to crest as sweat dripped down your spine. “Steven…”

“That’s right, darlin’. Say my name.”

“Steven,” you sighed. “Shut up and fuck me.”

A growl left his lips when both hands clamped to your ass, lifted you slightly from his lap, and he began to pound up into you, fucking you with a vigour which made you scream, body arching back in pleasure.

“Fuck!” he hissed, his gaze falling to where the two of you were joined. “That’s so damn sexy, baby. Look at you taking that cock like a good girl.”

The coil tightening in your belly seemed to blend with the fire raging out of control. Bolts of pleasure rippled up your sacrum from your birthday edition, and you sobbed out a cry of delight, loving what was happening to your body. It felt so damn good you never wanted it to end but the growing burn, the intense drag, the thrust of his crown against your cervix,  finally became more than you could hold back, and you screamed as every nerve ending in your body seemed to light like a fuse and go off at the same time.

Steve grunted and slammed his eyes shut, his face twisting as he fought to stave off the milking of your body as you came hard, clenching around his big cock, the pleasure pulsing and racing through you in unrelenting waves.

Bucky immediately jumped to his feet to snake his hands into your hair and pull your head back. His lips claimed yours, licked and sucked at your mouth, teased your tongue while your body continued to flex and close around Steve’s.

You grasped Bucky’s length when it rubbed against your arm, and gave him a firm stroke, clenching a little harder when Steve’s mouth returned to your breasts. 

“Babe, you’re killing me,” Steve whined, his voice muffled, tucked as it was in your cleavage.

“Mmm,” Bucky hummed, “But it’s worth it, ain’t it, Stevie? Look at our girl, all soft and so well loved. Did Steve do a good job, baby girl?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, smiling against Bucky’s mouth.

He chuckled softly and lifted you from Steve’s lap. “Think we should move this to the bedroom, _moya zvezdochka_.”

Steve’s hands helped you steady while he looked up at you adoringly, the blue of his eyes so bright. He placed a tender kiss on your hip, then pushed you back a step to get to his feet.

They were both so tall and just … thick. Hot, hard, and heavily muscled. It made your heart pound and all new heat pool in your belly, and you dragged your fingertips down first Bucky’s chest and then Steve’s. “It’s really unfair.”

“What’s that, doll face?” Steve asked, his big hand sliding over your hip and ass.

“You two are too damn sexy. It makes me nervous.”

Bucky laughed and pressed his body to your front. “You think you didn’t make us nervous earlier when I sent Steve out to dance with you?”

Your brow arched. “Just how long you been planning this, Barnes?”

“Since your anniversary,” Steve breathed against your ear, “when I nearly decked your husband for bringing it up.”

Bucky gave you a gentle tug, getting your feet moving over the smooth marble floors. Steve’s hands never left your body, stroking, massaging, touching every inch of you he could. They worked in tandem, clearly comfortable with each other, and though you could have developed feelings of insecurity rather easily - thoughts of them sharing other women could have given you a complex - the way they touched you with anything but clinical detachment put your mind at ease. Add in the three years you’d been married to Bucky, and you knew the difference between sex and loving.

Once you arrived in the bedroom, you smiled, deciding if you were going to really do this, you weren’t going to let Bucky call all the shots. He’d yet to put on a condom, so once you were at the foot of the giant bed, you shoved him hard, sending him to his back, flailing as he went and knocking the empty box your gift had arrived in onto the floor.

“Whatcha doing, dollface?” he asked, a smirk on his face.

“Like you don’t know,” you snickered, stepping between his thighs to bend and lick the slick head of his cock, tasting the essence of him leaking with his excitement.

“Fuck, baby. You and that mouth,” he groaned, resting back on his elbows so he could watch you work.

You glanced over your shoulder at Steve, wagged your bottom his way, and sent him a sultry smile. “You want to help a girl out, Stevie? Can’t fulfill Buck’s promise without a little assistance.”

He dropped to his knees with a thunk and made you giggle. “Yeah, sweetheart. I can help you out.” His hands massaged your cheeks when his mouth returned to your core. “Fuck, you’re all juicy.”

Another laugh erupted from you. “Is he always like this?” you asked Bucky who was grinning at the two of you.

“Always. His mouth is connected to his dick. The harder it gets, the more he talks,” Bucky teased.

“Shut up, asshat,” Steve grumbled and squeezed your buttocks.

A breath shuddered out of you and over Bucky when Steve put his tongue back to work, his fingers plunging into your sheath while the opposite hand played with the plug. “Oh,” you sighed, holding onto Bucky’s cock and letting your lips kiss it, slide up and down his shaft.

“Darlin’, don’t be cruel,” Bucky groaned. “I’ve been watching you treat Stevie so nice. Don’t yah wanna do the same for me?”

“Big, whiny baby,” you teased softly, shuddering with every strong lap of Steve’s tongue.

“Baby girl. Don’t make me ask twice.”

You lifted your gaze to his, the blue-grey eyes you loved far more blue than grey at the moment, his arousal very apparent and not just because you held his exceptionally hard cock in your hand. A high flush darkened his cheeks. His eyes, like Steve’s, were nearly all pupil. His breath came in small pants and sweat had broken out on his whole body.

“You want me to wreck you, oh mighty stamina king?” you asked and pressed the flat of your tongue to the underside of his cock.

“Give it your best shot, darlin’,” he growled and swore when you closed your lips over him, taking him straight to the back of your throat. His thighs flexed, and he strained not to buck up and thrust into your mouth. With the first strong suck in retreat, his hand went to your hair.

You didn’t give him a reprieve but took him deep again, nearly choking yourself, before drawing back. You flicked your tongue over him. Kitten licks. Gentle scrapes of teeth. Small sucks on his tender skin. After all this time, you knew exactly what it took to make him make that sound, the one that was a groan and a growl and the precursor to him pulling your mouth from his cock before he could explode down your throat.

“Fuck!” he snarled, the sound you’d been waiting for pouring out of him.

This time, you lifted your head and smiled before he could force you from him. But you had no time to relish your triumph for your legs were growing weak with Steve’s playing, and you let your forehead drop to Bucky’s thigh.

“You gonna live, sweetheart?” Bucky chuckled.

You could only moan.

He stroked your hair and continued to laugh softly when he shifted out from beneath you. “C’mon, Steve. Our girl needs us.”

“But I wasn’t done,” Steve pouted. Still, he got to his feet, his fingers skating up your spine.

A giddy giggle bubbled from your lips. “Get on the bed, Rogers.”

“You get on the bed,” he grumbled, giving your bottom a gentle swat.

“Watch it, Captain,” you warned, climbing up with him.

He grabbed you and rolled you beneath him, kissing and caressing and touching you all over. His hands fell to your breasts, his mouth to your throat, and you gasped and moaned when he hit one of your more sensitive erogenous zones. Even as you writhed against Steve, your eyes were drawn to Bucky, standing beside the bed, rolling on a condom.

You’d both decided until he retired, you weren’t taking chances. Yes, they used condoms and were all health checked on the regular at work, but he refused to put either of you at risk.

The bottle of lube came next, and he tossed it up by the pillows before getting on the bed.

It was still a weird feeling, the dual sets of hands. They touched you with gentle reverence, lighting your body on fire. There was no competition between the two, only a never ceasing desire to make you moan. When one wanted your mouth, the other shifted to your breasts or slipped his fingers between your thighs, or in Bucky’s case, your ass cheeks.

Your hands were kept busy, usually on Steve. His body was new and his skin so soft, but Bucky didn’t seem to mind, aware you weren’t ignoring him. His mouth was far too busy sliding down your spine or nipping teeth into your shoulder, sucking on your ear and making you mewl when his hips rucked into yours.

His hand grasped your thigh, lifting your knee to slide it over Steve’s hip. You noted the look they shared, then Steve was kissing you deeply, sucking on your tongue, and rubbing his fingers through your folds, coating your clit with your slick to make it easier.

“Okay, baby,” Bucky murmured against your shoulder. “I’m gonna take this out. You just focus on how good Steve’s making you feel.” His fingers took hold of the base of the plug, and you whimpered into Steve’s mouth. Bucky pressed kiss after kiss on your shoulder, carefully turning and gently pulling to get your ring of muscle to relax.

You moaned, arching as things stretched and burned.

“Easy, darlin’,” Steve murmured, slipping his fingers between your lips to thrust into your core.

“Steve,” you whined. “Bucky!” A cry wrenched its way from your throat when the bulbous middle finally pulled free.

“Good girl,” Bucky praised, kissing your shoulder. “Up now. Let Stevie make you feel good, baby, then I’m gonna join you.”

Steve didn’t let you think, just rolled to his back, your body going with him with your leg still caught on his hip. His hands stroked your sides, up and down in gentle passes. “How you doing, doll face?”

“Steven,” you panted, “I ache.”

His eyes softened, and he reached up to gently cup your face. “I know, sweetheart. Buck and I’ll fix that for you. We’re gonna love you good, treat you right. We’ll take care of you, baby doll. You’re the prettiest dame I’ve ever seen. So sexy and sweet. I love you so much, darlin’.”

You chuckled, his mouth running away with him again. “You’re pretty damn sweet yourself, Rogers.”

A flush coloured his cheeks, right back to redden his ears. “I just… you’re so… and I’ve wanted this so long.”

“It’s okay, Stevie. You’re adorable,” you murmured and kissed him, pressing your hands into the bed to either side of his head. Against his lips, you whispered softly, “I love you too.” Such emotion filled his eyes, you felt yours water in response.

“(Y/N),” he whispered, voice hoarse.

You lifted up, reached down, took him in your hand and fit him against you. This time as you slid down it was easier but no less powerful nor filling, and when you bottomed out, you sighed softly.

Fingers skimmed your spine, and you looked back at Bucky. His eyes, too, were full of emotion. Love. Lust. Happiness. They reflected in the soft light coming through the windows from the Vegas strip.

Sitting back, you reached out for Bucky who came up behind you, his thighs straddling one of Steve’s, to wrap his arm around your waist and stroke your throat with the other hand, over your pretty pendant and back up to tip your head back and kiss you. “Beautiful, baby girl. You ready for this?” he asked, trailing his fingers down to cup and knead your breast.

“Yeah.”

“You want this? Want the two of us?”

“Yes.”

“Does the idea excite you, _moya zvezdochka_?”

The deep, Russian words made you shiver. “More than I think it should. You’ve made me a deviant, Bucky,” you teased and smiled to offset the scolding.

“We like you deviant, doll face,” Bucky murmured. “You make our life special, unique, and so full. You give us so much.” He let you go to press you down over Steve. “Let us give you this.”

Your breath shuddered out, his words piercing your heart as you lowered down on Steve’s chest, your breasts aching when they connected with his warm skin.

One of Steve’s big hands stroked your thigh, drawing your knee a little higher. The other brushed the hair from your face. “Relax for Bucky, sweetheart,” he crooned, rocking his hips up just a little to send pleasure singing through your veins.

Slick fingers delved between your cheeks, rubbed lube over your opening, and you could hear Bucky slide his hand over his cock, an amazing feat considering how hard your heart was pounding in your ears.

“Breathe, baby or this isn’t gonna happen. You’ll pass out before we get there,” Steve chuckled.

“She’s done that before,” Bucky chuckled. His fingers stretched you open and made you moan.

“Shut up, Bucky,” you groaned, letting your head fall to Steve’s shoulder when Bucky exchanged his fingers for his cock.

Steve’s hands clamped on your cheeks and pulled, making things easier for Bucky to press forward. “You’ll have to tell me about it sometime, doll.”

“Fucking corset,” Bucky grumbled.

“Oh, shit…” you whined, arching your back when his thick cock stretched your ass open.  “Oh, god… that’s so…”

“So what, baby? Use your words,” Bucky snickered, sliding slowly forward.

“Tight!” you moaned. “It feels so good!”

“We’re gonna fuck you so good, darlin’,” Steve murmured, continuing to flex into you.

“I can’t. I can’t,” you panted, stuffed full and moments away from coming. A desperate keen tore from your throat once Bucky was fully seated.

“Shh,” Bucky soothed, pressing kisses to your shoulder and spine. “We got you, darlin’. Don’t fight it. Just let go.”

The two of them didn’t give you a second to think, to worry, just started to move and threw you into a whirlpool of sensation. One would retreat, the other return. They left you breathless, your body throbbing. Pleasure skated the border of pain, so close to tearing you in half. It felt so good though, so fucking good, all you could do was pant and keen and cry out in disbelief.  

“Please!” you begged, uncertain what you were begging for. “Oh, god! Please!”

“That’s it, baby,” Bucky purred. He wrapped his hand in your hair and drew you back in a sharp arch, tugging on your locks and causing your back to sway. “You love this don’t you?”

“Yes!” you sobbed, digging your fingers into Steve’s shoulders.

The sound of flesh hitting flesh was nothing compared to the three voices rising in pleasure, each one blending and mixing like a choir, creating a music all your own, beautiful and sensual.

“You’re gonna come for us, aren’t you, baby girl?” he growled.

“Oh, god, Bucky! So hard!” You could feel the tightening, but you were so full it was as if your body simply couldn’t let go, wasn’t strong enough to clamp down on the rods of steel sliding through your walls and giving you such pleasure. “But I can’t!”

“Yes, you can,” he growled, his pace increasing along with Steve’s.

They stole your breath, the pleasure so potent, so intense, you sobbed and cried and clung to Steve.

“Look at me, darlin’,” Steve murmured, his hands coming up to cup your face. Bright blue eyes peered up at you, so full of love you shuddered to see them. “Let go,” he whispered.

“Steve,” you sobbed.

“Let go, sweetheart. We’ve got you.” His hand slipped down between your glistening bodies to slowly circle your engorged bundle of nerves, sweat causing all of you to slide wildly together.

“Oh god, oh god… _fuck_!” you wailed when the tension finally, blessedly broke, sending you flying into ecstasy so profound, your vision darkened at the edges. The blood rushing in your ears muted the sound of your boys as they lost their own battles, the three of you tumbling, rushing, falling, flying with the pleasure shrieking through your body.

Both of them grew thicker and harder, their pace faltering as they lost themselves to your squeezing body. You buried your face in Steve’s throat, small cries and whimpers all you could produce with the way the whips of pleasure lashed at you.

Steve thrust up hard and moaned hotly, “Baby! Fuck!” 

You could feel him throb as he emptied himself out and went limp beneath you.

Bucky dragged you back by the hips twice more before his cock pulsed, and he followed Steve with a bellow, and a shouted, “Fuck!” He collapsed on your back, fists punched into the mattress to keep from squishing the life out of you while raining kisses on your sweaty shoulder.

There was a moment when the three of you laid there, a pile of shaking, shuddering flesh before Bucky slowly withdrew from your body and stood to go into the bathroom. Steve gently rolled you to the side and followed Bucky’s lead, kissing you softly first.

You lay in the middle of the bed all alone, watching the lights flicker over the ceiling. Emotions bubbled and rolled inside you, sending your hand to your mouth when the tears started. You breathed out a shaky breath, and another when the first didn’t work to calm your racing heart. Wiping at them, you tried to make them stop, not really sure where they were coming from, to begin with, before Bucky or Steve returned.

Unfortunately, they returned together and far too soon.

“Baby?” Bucky said with a frown as you sat up, turned away, and pulled the blanket around your body.

“Yeah?” you asked, but your voice was hoarse.

He was at your side in an instant, virtually launching himself over the bed to land next to you. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” you whispered, wiping viciously at your face. “That was… really intense.”

“Do you… want me to go?” Steve asked, sounding confused and afraid.

You shook your head, and he came to sit cautiously at your side.

Still naked, you kind of wished they would put their shorts on, but seeing as how Steve hadn’t been wearing any, that would be a little difficult. Instead, you looked out the window to the Vegas lights and sighed tiredly.

“You gotta talk to us, doll face,” Bucky said, linking his fingers with yours.

“I don’t know what to say,” you whispered. “Everything was fine, but now… I’ve got all these feelings, and I’m…”

“What?” Steve asked, taking your other hand after a short hesitation.

“Confused. What happens now?”

Bucky cupped your chin and turned your face his direction. “Now we talk, and we figure it out. You spend time with Steve. We figure out the boundaries and what you’re comfortable with. And we love each other.”

“And what do you want?” you asked Steve, turning to look at him.

“I want this.” He lifted your hand to his lips and kissed the back. “To be able to touch you in public. Kiss you, hold your hand. I want a relationship, and I want to love you without fear.”

“You’re afraid?” you whispered, finding the confession painful like a dart to the heart.

“Yeah, sweetheart. You’re Buck’s _wife_! This… it ain’t exactly normal.”

Bucky snorted. “We ain’t exactly normal, punk.”

“You know what I mean,” Steve huffed. “Yeah, a poly relationship isn’t a big deal in our community or among our friends, but (Y/N)-”

You pressed your fingers to his lips. “Steve, don’t ever make choices because you think I want normal or because I work in the ‘real world.’ The people I work with know what Bucky does for a living, and while I may not shout it from the rooftop, I’m not going to deny what you are to me just to save other people’s feelings.”

“And what am I to you?” he asked, once he’d taken your hand from his lips.

“I… I don’t know. You’re so much more than a friend, or… or a-a girlfriend like Wanda calls Jennifer. Other than the fact we weren’t sleeping together, I felt as close to you as I do Bucky.”

He smiled down at you, blue eyes soft and full of affection. “We’ll figure it out. I just know you’re my girl. Our girl,” he grinned at Bucky.

“And what about you, Bucky?”

“Dollface.” He wrapped his arm around your waist, leaned forward to kiss your shoulder, and set his chin on it to smile at you happily. “All I want is for you to be happy. Lately, you ain’t been as happy as you could be. You and Steve. You and me. Us as a family. That’s our normal, and I’m perfectly happy with it.”

You smirked at him for a second before asking, “You and Steve… you don’t… with each other, do you?”

“No!” they barked at the same time.

A giggle became a full laugh when Bucky poked you in the ribs.

“Menace!” he growled and dragged you off the bed into his arms. “Should put you in a cold shower for that.”

“Then we wouldn’t want to join her,” Steve smirked and headed into the bathroom to turn on the shower.

Bucky brushed the hair from your face. “You okay, baby? I know we kinda… sprang this on you.”

You gently touched his chest. “It was a surprise, and I know it’s going to take some getting used to. I want you to be happy, too, and if this ever becomes an issue, I need you to tell me, okay?”

“ _Moya zvezdochka,_ I never would have brought it up if it was going to be a problem. I love Stevie, you know I do. I’d do anything for him cause other than you, he’s the closest family I’ve got. He never said a thing. Never made it an issue. Never once made it obvious he was in love with you, but I’m not an idiot. And you, baby.” He chuckled and shook his head. “You love so big, darlin’, I’m not even sure you realized how deep your feelings went until we forced you to look at them.”

“Tricky, Barnes. Very tricky.” You patted his chest and turned to see Steve leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, comfortable in his nudity. Backlit as he was by the bathroom light, he looked even bigger, stronger, more commanding than ever.

Bucky chuckled and kissed your nape when a sound suspiciously like _hnnng_ came from your throat. “And he used to be such a scrawny punk.”

“There ain’t nothing scrawny about either of you,” you muttered, smacking his abs and making him grunt before sauntering past Steve into the bathroom. You made sure to pat Steve’s ass as well, grinning up at him when he arched a brow. “Always wanted to do that.”

***

You woke the next morning to find Bucky awake and smiling at you. Steve gave a soft snore behind you, his arm draped over your waist. It made you bite back a giggle, and you linked your fingers through Bucky’s, lifting your chin to offer your lips for which he happily accepted and kissed you with soft, tender brushes of lips.

“Hey,” you whispered, brushing your knuckles on his stubble roughened cheek.

“Morning,” he whispered. “I’m gonna slip out and go to the gym. I think you and Steve should have some time together.”

“Buck.” You sighed when he pressed his finger to your lips.

“It’s fine. You two need a chance to be together without me around.”

“I like you around,” you murmured, uncertainty filling your heart.

“Baby, we’ll spend lots of time together. We’re gonna take you shopping and see a couple shows. We’ve got the next few days together before we go home.”

“And when we go home?” you asked.

He grinned, kissed your lips, and snuck out of bed already dressed for the gym. “Ask Steve,” he whispered and bounced out the door with way too much energy for, you lifted your head to look at the clock, seven in the morning.

Huffing out a sigh, you snuggled back into your pillow, but the return to sleep eluded you.  Your body was pleasantly sore, the kind of sore which announced you’d had a lot of fun without overdoing it. The three of you had fooled around in the shower, but the entire experience had been physically and emotionally draining, ending with you snuggled down between the two sprawled out bodies of your boys.

Thank goodness the bed was huge. You were going to have to think about getting a bigger one when you got home if Steve-

You shook your head to cut off your train of thought. You didn’t even know what Steve wanted, and here you were planning on having him moving in and joining you and Bucky every night. Maybe he didn’t want to move in, and if he did, maybe he would want his own room, and you’d have to choose where you slept at night.

That idea made you kind of sick. You didn’t want to have to choose. You wanted both of them together, always. Was that being selfish though? Were you being selfish making them share? Demanding to have things your way.

“Sweetheart,” Steve grumbled, “I can practically hear your mind working, and you’re tight as a drum.”

“Sorry!” you squeaked and tried to shift away, only to have him roll into your spine and drag you back like you were a giant teddy bear.

“What are you stressing about? Where’s Buck?”

“He went to the gym.”

“Chump. He was supposed to wait for me,” Steve huffed. He buried his nose in your hair and inhaled.

The typical male morning ‘issue’ was wedged between your buttocks, and you snickered to feel it. “Someone woke up happy.”

“Baby, that’s just how I roll,” he growled and slung his leg over your legs to grind against you.

You burst out laughing, squealing and fighting to break free. “Steve!”

“You keep that up, you’re gonna have to help me out, doll face. Things are getting rather… hard.”

“I can see that,” you chuckled but sobered quickly.

“What’s going on in your head, doll?” he asked quietly.

You turned over to face him. “What happens when we go home, Steve?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve got… all these plans in my head, but I don’t know what you want, or where you’re at, and I don’t want to push-”

His mouth stopped your words. Lips lingering, he kissed you slowly, leisurely, while his hand brushed up and down your ribs, drawing you closer. “What I’d love,” he said softly once he broke the kiss, “is to fall asleep and wake up beside you every night. Whether that’s sharing a bed with you and Bucky, or just you and I, I’m not going to push you to do anything you don’t want.”

You nodded slowly, eyes on his chest where your hands rested. “I want you in my bed. I don’t want to choose. I feel real… selfish, keeping you both for myself.”

He chuckled and rubbed your noses together. “Sweetheart, if anyone is selfish, it would be me, inserting myself into your guy's marriage. But Bucky assures me he’s okay with it, and as long as you want me, I’m not going anywhere.”

“And what about the future?” you asked. These were all things you’d discussed with Bucky years ago but had never brought up with Steve, afraid of what his answers might be.

He rolled onto his back, bringing you with him to rest on his chest. “Honestly? I… I had a showing, with my art.”

You reared up to glare down at him. “And you didn’t say anything!”

Red suffused his cheeks as he looked away. “I figured it would bomb. I didn’t want anyone to watch me fail.”

“Oh, Stevie,” you sighed, laying back down and hugging him tightly.

“Only thing is… I didn’t.”

“Of course you didn’t. Your art is beautiful, elegant, and so unique.”

He stroked your back. “Yeah. I've got a gallery who wants to showcase and show it for me. They want me to produce a few new pieces so they can host another show.”

“Steven! That’s wonderful!” You wiggled against him, unbelievably excited.

“I can’t work for Stark and get what I need to finish done by the deadline,” he murmured. “I’m… I’m considering… retiring.”

“Really?” you whispered.

“Yeah. I’ve… got a really good nest egg built up thanks to Pepper and her stock tips. Enough to live comfortably while I get my art figured out.”

“Steve,” you breathed in wonder, turning to lean on his chest and smile at him. “You should do it.”

“I just… I don’t want to let Bucky down. There's been talk of another Marvel parody… but…”

“But?”

“But now that I’m here… with you and everything… I’m not sure I can do it anymore.” He sighed and stared at the ceiling. “I’ve always been… conflicted with it.”

“I know, Stevie,” you murmured and touched his chin to get him to look at you. “I know it preys on your mind. Sharon saying what she did yesterday didn’t help. But you know what? She’s a bitch. You’re perfect just the way you are, and I love you, porn star or painter.”

“You really are perfect.” He shook his head. “Yesterday I thought it was too bad Bucky saw you first, but... I think this is... better.”

You smiled at that and pressed a kiss to his chest. “Whatever you decide to do, you know Buck and I will support you. Bucky doesn’t want to do this forever either, you know. He’s been making plans to open a garage eventually.”

“I know. He wants to fix and sell bikes. He loves that Triumph of his.”

“Like you don’t?” you snickered, knowing Bucky wasn’t the only one with a thing for motorcycles.

“I do.” He grinned goofily at the ceiling.

“Well,” you sat up and slung your leg over his torso to sit astride his abs. “If you do decide to retire, we have an excellent sunroom that would make a great art studio.” 

“You asking me to move in, doll face?” he smirked at you and massaged your thighs.

“And if I am?” You leaned over to open the nightstand drawer. “You practically live with us now.”

“I might need to know if there’s some added incentive to living with you.”

“Added incentive, huh?” You pulled a condom from the drawer and held it between your fingers. “Shall I show you how I _really_ broke the Stamina King?”

His eyes lit up with excitement. “Please?”

Laughing as you shimmed your way down his body with the tinfoil packet caught between your teeth, you had a moment to think...

_Perhaps what happens in Vegas, doesn’t always stay in Vegas._

**_-The End-_ **


	6. Drops of Paint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to @wingsyouburn for their support through Coffee Updates, which brought you this update.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Smut, smut, and filth. NSFW (18+). Swearing. This one is mostly Steve centric.

* * *

Your heels clicked quietly on the tiles as you made your way through the house to the sunroom at the back. Work had been long, the day stressful, and all you wanted was to crawl into the arms of one of your two guys. As Bucky was away for a few days wrapping up his latest shoot, the only man currently able to fill that desire was Steve.

Not that you were complaining or anything. Since Steve had moved in months earlier, days after you’d returned from Vegas, you were blissfully happy. Stupidly happy. Over the moon happy. Sure it had taken a little adjusting on all your parts. Steve had moments of uncertainty in the beginning when he’d look at you and Bucky, and you could tell he wasn’t sure he should be intruding on your moments together. He got over them fast enough when Bucky would growl something irate in Russian and order him into the circle.

It was an interesting dynamic that had developed between the three of you. Bucky was always in charge. Always. When the three of you got frisky, his deep voice growled out orders, and you followed them happily. Steve revelled in it in a way you’d never thought possible. It was, as Bucky had said, his secret kink, so while Bucky led and you teased, Steve gave himself over, and the three of you had the best sex of your entire life.

But when you were alone, when it was only you and Steve, he showed you the part of himself you’d seen on set or in his films. He dominated. He took. He gave. He made you feel cherished and loved, and you revelled in it.

Your two men made you so damn happy, and you did everything in your power to make them feel the same. The months the three of you had been together were the best of your life so far. You'd never imagined you could be so stupidly blissful.

When you made it to the doors of the sunroom, you let out a quiet sigh. Blissfully happy you may be, but Steve was stressed out. He’d retired from adult films to pursue his art career and his second showing had been a smashing success. Now he was in the process of preparing for a third, one you thought he was pushing too hard toward, it coming too soon on the tail end of his last show, but he wouldn’t hear you. He insisted he could handle it. Painting was his passion. Producing a dozen new pieces wasn’t that difficult.

Except he’d stalled on the fourth. Three sat finished against the far wall, the final product so incredibly beautiful they brought tears to your eyes, but the fourth painting had become a problem, one he couldn’t seem to work past. It had given him artist block making it impossible for him to move on to anything new when he was so focused on the canvas set on his easel he was damn near cross-eyed.

You crossed the floor to where he sat on a stool, slightly hunched in a t-shirt and paint-splattered jeans, his feet bare and hair dishevelled, and set your hand on his shoulder, causing him to startle. “No luck?” you asked, kissing his cheek.

He sighed and shook his head, dragging a small brush with burnt umber paint - a colour you were only familiar with because he’d taught you about it - over the canvas. “I don’t know what’s wrong!” Frustrated, he shot the brush into a bucket of paint cleaner and picked up another he dragged through white paint and held still over the canvas.

You wrapped your arms around him and kissed the nape of his neck. “Why don’t you take a break? I’m going to have a shower. You could always join me,” you offered with a seductive purr.

He turned enough to kiss your cheek. “You go ahead. I’ve got to get this figured out.”

You smiled sadly but nodded and walked away in disappointment. It had been like this for the last few days. Steve would be up before you in the morning, planted on that stool, fighting with his imagination. You’d work all day and come home to find him still in the same place, hunched over, frowning at the painting that just wouldn’t come. Usually, you could coax him to eat. Then he would head back to the sunroom and be there until you’d gone to bed, sneaking in hours later to fall down exhausted only to repeat the cycle the next morning.

Well, enough was enough. The man needed a break, and you were going to make him take one.

Once you were in the bedroom, you stripped out of your work clothes and headed into the shower to set the stage. You scrubbed and shaved, washed your hair, and left the shower to slather your skin in the vanilla scented lotion you knew Steve liked. You smiled as you noted Steve’s cologne sitting beside Bucky’s and the three toothbrushes in the cup.

You were a family of three, and it was wonderful. Especially when the three of you shared the large bed you could see through the open bathroom door, and you got up early only to come back to find Bucky sleeping on Steve’s shoulder. You had pictures, hastily taken and hidden deep in the recesses of your underwear drawer for blackmail purposes at a later date.

Once you finished with the lotion, you put part two of your plan into action. A little secret surprise just for Steve if he succumbed to your whiles. The small silver plug, a gift you’d gotten Steve as a joke, was the only one you could put in yourself. It still took work, lube, and contorting yourself like a pretzel, and Lord help you, you’d be mortified if Bucky or Steve ever caught you at it, but it was fun when you could surprise them with the addition. As Steve was your ass man, it was a sure fire way to make him hot and get him out of his head for a while.

The fact it had Captain America’s shield stamped on the end didn’t hurt either. Smirking to yourself, you wandered naked into the bedroom and dug through your drawers until you found your shorts.

Those shorts. The tight ones you’d always thought made your ass look huge, but they were the ones Steve lusted over. The ones he knew you wore without underwear. Then you went to his part of the closet and dug out your favourite blue button down. It looked hot as sin on him, and he knew it was your favourite. You put it on, rolled the sleeves up, and tied the tails together beneath your unbound breasts.

A glance at the mirror had you smirking at your reflection. You knew you’d catch his attention, but you weren’t sure it was enough to break him out of his funk. For that, you would need a  _ special  _ weapon. The thought of what you were about to do made you giggle as you picked up your e-reader, knowing the smutty novel you were reading would also work to your advantage, and went to the kitchen to open the freezer.

The addition of the plug made you shiver in excitement as you made your way back to the sunroom where Steve hadn’t moved. You made your way through the room to sit in the lounge chair across from his easel. He would be able to catch you from the corner of his eye.

“Babe?” You looked up with a smile, noting how his eyes darkened as they focused on your attire. “What, uh, what you doing?”

“I’m going to sit here and read if that’s okay? I miss your company, and I know your busy, but I thought we could share space?” You blinked innocently at him.

“Yeah… yeah, sure.” He turned back to his painting as you turned to the chair.

The smile that graced your face was likely evil, but you wiped it off as you sat, arranging your legs to their best advantage. The shorts rode up. Your breasts jiggled as you shifted and wiggled until you were comfortable, then you set your e-reader on your knees and pulled out your secret weapon. The wrapper crackled and crinkled as you peeled the popsicle out of it and placed the paper on the floor beside you.

“Are you done?”

You looked up, smiled at Steve, and nodded. Then you licked the entire length of the popsicle and took it in your mouth. He growled something unintelligible and went back to glaring at his painting. You hid your smile by sucking on your grape flavoured treat and turned your attention to your book.

As you slowly sucked and licked your popsicle, you read about the heroine and her pirate lover. They were having a tryst in his quarters, the pirate Captain ravaging her against the wall in his suite and tearing open her bodice. You read about how he touched her with hard hands and tender lips, how he tore her dress down to her navel and sank to his knees.

It made your breath come in fast pants. You licked the popsicle, sliding it over your lips while using your other hand to lightly brush the flesh exposed between the collars of your stolen shirt. Every so often you flipped the page, but you always came back to gently sliding your fingers over your skin. When you took the popsicle, turned it and pushed it all the way into your mouth where you slurped as you drew it from between your lips, the sound of a paintbrush slapping wetly to the ground had you looking up.

“Steve? Are you okay?”

“S’fine. S’nothing,” he grumbled, bending down to pick it up and chuck it in the can with the others that needed cleaning.

Humming softly and hiding your smile, you went back to reading, knowing it was only a matter of time.

The Pirate Captain had his head between her thighs, his mouth treating the woman in your book oh so well until she was screaming, crying her release. Then he was pushing to his feet and taking her naked and shaking to his bed.

You whimpered, and the popsicle slipped from your lips to hang loosely from your fingers. Your legs shifted restlessly, and you squeezed your thighs together when arousal boiled in your belly. Then you gave a much louder gasp when the cold splat of popsicle dripped on your cleavage. You looked down and used your fingers to collect the grape ice and sucked them into your mouth.

“Shit!” Steve’s stool went over with a crash that had you looking up in concern as he stalked over and loomed above you. His hands crashed down to tightly grip the arms on your lounge chair as he dropped his head and growled. “Is there something you need, sweetheart?”

You blinked up at him. “Why, whatever do you mean, Stevie?”

He huffed as he took the tablet from your knee and set it on the floor before dragging you out of the chair and over his shoulder. “Don’t you dare drop that popsicle.”

You gripped the stick tightly. He stalked back toward his studio area where a row of counter height cabinets had been installed to hold drying canvases and supplies, but when he made to drop you down on them, you squeaked and twisted slightly to avoid landing too hard. He shot you a look, curiosity and suspicion, then reached for the empty water glass near his easel and set it beside you.

“Gimme that.” Steve plucked the popsicle from your fingers and thrust it into the glass, then turned away to pick up his fallen stool. He sat, crossed his arms, and stared at you. “Now, is there something you need?” You bit your lip and nodded. “Use your words, darlin’.”

“I want you to take a break, Steve. With me.”

His eyes darkened as he reached down and pulled open a drawer. From within, he took a brush roughly an inch wide and blindingly white. It was obviously new and unused, and he dropped it in the glass with your melting popsicle. “And I need to work, but seeing as how you won’t let me, maybe I should paint something else.”

The idea of just what he was going to paint made you shiver.

“Now,” he slammed the drawer shut, “seeing as how I don’t want sticky grape stains on my shirt, you can take it off.”

His brows were lowered, eyes dark, face hard, but you could see the excitement he was doing his best to hide in the quick thrumming of his pulse. He wanted to pretend annoyance but wasn’t quite pulling it off. Sliding your fingers into the front of his shirt, you tugged at the loose knot you’d made until the tails came free, leaving you exposed to his gaze as you shrugged out of his shirt.

“So gorgeous,” he murmured, leaning forward to place a kiss above your belly button. “You gonna be good and do as you're told?”

“Yes, Steve,” you whimpered when he licked at your flesh.

He rose slowly to his feet and reached for the brush soaking up grape popsicle. “Lean back on your hands, baby. I need to stretch my canvas.”

Your legs dangled off the edge of your perch as you leaned back and settled on your elbows, stretching out for him as heat flooded your body. The first touch of the brush made you shiver when the cold, wet bristles painted patterns on your belly. Then he bent down and followed them with his tongue.

A quiet moan escaped your lips, his tongue hot compared to the ice of his paintbrush. He dipped and painted and licked the sticky mess from your stomach, gradually working higher until he could paint your areolas and nipples. When his lips and tongue followed, you moaned loudly.

Steve chuckled and nipped your flesh before sucking vigorously. He painted patterns, dipping the brush and tickling it over your flesh. The sharp tip flicked your nipple. The cold made you shiver. The hot sweep of his tongue kept you from feeling sticky as the juice never had a chance to dry. When it went back in the cup and didn’t return, you lifted your head to look at Steve.

“I think I need more space to work with.” His hands skimmed down your waist to your shorts and dipped into your waistband. “You and these fucking shorts,” he grumbled. You giggled and lifted your hips, allowing him to work them down your legs. “And you smell so good, baby.” He kissed his way down your stomach. “But you’re so bad for distracting me. Think I don’t know that was what you were doing sitting over there, getting all hot and bothered reading that smutty novel I know you have on your e-reader. Wearing these sexy shorts and sitting there with no bra in my shirt.”

“You work too hard, Stevie,” you pouted, settling gingerly back to the counter as he took the shorts off your legs.

“I gotta help support my best girl.”

You sat up and cupped his face, the admission making your heart ache. “Steve, is- is that what this is about? Is that why you’re so flustered about this painting?”

He shrugged and looked down at your thighs where he was gently stroking his fingers. “Things are different now. I’m not working for Stark anymore, and art’s… finicky. If things are good, I’ve got to push my work.”

He glanced up at you through long lashes, a light blush on his face that you stroked gently. “Steve everything is fine.”

“I know, I just…” he sighed and kissed you. “I feel like I’m freeloading.”

“Stop. You’re not freeloading; you’re following your dreams! And you’re our family. Mine and Bucky’s. We are so damn proud of you.”

“I know, I just…”

You pressed your fingers to his lips. “If it were me, if I decided to, say, go back to school for whatever reason, would you think I was freeloading?”

“No,” he snorted.

You stroked his face and tilted his chin up. “Then stop it. You’re not our roommate, Steve. You’re an integral part of our family.”

“I love you so much,” he whispered and pressed his lips to yours.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, worried a little by his mindset. Had you or Bucky somehow made him feel… less important? When he tried to draw away, you didn’t let him. “Do you know how lost I’d be without you?”

“Baby,” he sighed, brushing your noses together.

“I’m serious, Steve. I can’t imagine a future without you in it. You and Bucky fill my heart so full.”

He stroked his fingers up your spine in a tender caress, the love in his heart evident in his touch. “You’re killing me with the feels, baby doll.”

“Good. You need to have all the feels because I have all the feels.”

His hands skimmed over your ribs and tightened down as he pressed you away from him. “I have a bunch of feels you need to experience right now.”

“Oh, yeah?” You settled back to your elbows and smiled. “What kind would those be?”

“The best kind.”

He smiled, and it was hot and dark and made the fire which had lessened to a simmer burn hot in your belly a second time. Soft lips worked their way from your collarbone to your breasts, paused to worship your stiff peaks until you writhed and bucked against his mouth, then skimmed their way down your center line to the dimple of your belly button and pressed sweet kisses all over your soft belly. His hands gently massaged your waist, and his thumbs worked circles into your hips, then he was pushing your thighs apart as far as possible with the counter behind your knees.

He shifted you forward and sat on his stool, reaching for the rapidly melting popsicle when his sharp intake of breath set you biting your lip to keep from laughing. It appeared he’d found your secret.

“Dollface, you bad girl,” he growled. “Sit up.”

You pushed up on your hands as he collected the popsicle and brought it to his lips. He sucked the excess fluid off before looking up at you with wicked delight. “Do you know how much we love the fact that you go and get waxed for us? We know how embarrassed you get.”

“You and Buck talk about that?” A blush warmed your cheeks.

“Oh, yeah, baby.” Before you could guess his intentions, the popsicle landed with a small thump above your mound and made you gasp. “It makes it so nice for us when we get our faces down here.” He dragged the icy treat down to the top of your cleft and left it there to melt. “You're so smooth.” He skimmed the popsicle down your lips. “It makes for a pleasant time by all when there’s no hair in the way.” The cold followed the line of your labia, spreading sticky grape juice all over. “Now, I’m gonna enjoy this sweet treat, until it’s all gone, but you, baby doll, you’re gonna play with those pretty tits until I tell you to stop.”

“Steve,” you moaned, your thighs shaking with how turned on you were.

“That’s right, darlin’,” he chuckled, his warm breath caressing your wet skin. “Say my name.” When his mouth finally touched your core, you gave a shuddering cry. “That doesn’t look like you followin’ instruction, sweetheart.”

You brought your hands to your breasts and began to squeeze and manipulate the flesh, tugging on your nipples as the warm brush of his breath hit the cold trickles of the popsicle’s juice. Then he was licking over you like an ice cream cone, full sweeps of his tongue. It made you shake and moan as the cold ran down, only to be lapped up by his hot tongue. It darted out, flicked and played over your clit. While one hand was occupied melting the popsicle over your skin, his other slipped beneath you to lightly tap against the plug before a finger was sinking deep between your squeezing walls.

“Oh, god, Steve,” you whimpered, his mouth so good.

“Keep touching yourself, dollface,” he growled. “I wanna feel you squeezing the fuck outta my fingers.”

He sucked on your skin, his mouth closing over you and the popsicle, so the icy treat melted faster. It cooled the tip of Steve's tongue, and when he flicked it over the hard bud of your clit, you shook with pleasure. A second finger thrust through your tightening walls while his thumb continued to press into the silver disk beneath you.

He made you moan and sigh and gasp, buck against his face and relish his talented tongue. “Don't stop playing with your pretty nipples, baby. I want to see them hard and swollen when I'm done.”

You whimpered, body beginning to shake with how good you felt. Pleasure licked through you with every swipe of his tongue. Fireworks exploded along your nerve endings. Stars gleamed when you closed your eyes, wallowing in the feel of his mouth worshiping your body.

You felt it when the stick from the popsicle connected with your skin, then Steve was tossing it aside and using his now sticky fingers to press your lips apart and suck your bundle of nerves between his lips to worry gently with his teeth.

It was your undoing, and as he slid a third finger into your clenching walls, you threw your head back and cried out his name.

He groaned and laid his head on your thigh, watching as he plunged his fingers into your glistening core. “Fuck that's beautiful.”

“Steve,” you whimpered, shaking as you continued to pluck and roll your nipples.

“That's my girl. You can stop, love.”

You fell back on your elbows, the pulsing of your orgasm still rippling through your veins.

Steve drew his fingers free and sucked them into his mouth. “Mmm, grape pussy. Delicious.”

A snorted laugh escaped but a moan soon replaced amusement when he used both hands to spread you open and clean you up with his tongue. Slow and thorough, he delved deep, and you wondered - not for the first time - how long his tongue truly was.

When he finished, smacking his lips together, you lifted your head to watch as he opened a drawer you couldn't see, to pull out a foil wrapped condom and lube.

The boys were often uninclined to leave whatever room the fun had started in and return to the bedroom, so you'd begun tucking condoms into out of the way places around the house. As you and Steve often got up to sexy shenanigans in the sunroom that overlooked the pool, condoms on hand were a must.

Even though Steve was retired, Bucky wasn't, and Steve refused to bareback it before Bucky could. It was sweet in a strange way, but Steve refused even when Bucky said he didn't mind.

You were ready to go at any time, counting down the days until Bucky's last film. He already had the groundwork done for his garage, and it too would be opening before you knew it. Already there was a line of customers down the block thanks to the custom work Bucky had done to his and Steve's bikes.

Steve's t-shirt came off over his head, and you smiled, sitting up to run your hands over his chest where drops of red and blue colour lingered.

“You're supposed to paint the canvas, not yourself.”

He chuckled as he undid his paint-splattered jeans. “There was an incident last night where I dozed off and may have fallen of the stool and into my pallet. I thought I'd gotten it all off. Guess not.”

“Mm. Drops of paint like connect the dots,” you teased, gliding your finger from point to point. “But I'd appreciate you coming to bed long before you fall asleep sitting up.”

He frowned, then slowly nodded. “I've not been a very good…” he groped for a word to define what he was then gave up, “I've been really self-absorbed lately, haven't I?”

Here again, you felt the disconnect, as if he were a step outside the group. You were going to have to do something about that. “You're in production mode, and when you're in the zone I get it, the inspiration strikes, and I've watched your brush fly. It's beautiful when that happens. But this thing you're doing, this obsessing? It will burn you out, Steve.”

His pants dropped, revealing his thick, hard cock. You'd taken to teasingly calling him Captain Commando for how often he went without underwear.

“I know you're right, but it's like I'm faced with an opponent I can't beat. And I just keep thinking eventually if I sit there long enough, I'll figure it out.” He stepped out of his pants leaving him as naked as you were.

You reached down and caressed him, drawing a long moan from his lips. “I think you need to stop stressing over it for now and come have fun with me. I've missed you, Stevie. We've had the bed all to ourselves, and you barely spend any time in it,” you pouted playfully.

“What the hell was I thinking?” he groaned thrusting into your hand. He took you by the waist and lifted you down from the counter.

When he sat on his stool again, you lowered to your knees. “You were overthinking. Maybe I should turn your brain off?”

Before he could respond, you licked his cock from root to tip and sank over him, taking him straight down your throat. A quick hiss of appreciation spilled from his lips before his hands buried in your hair.

“It’s seriously unfair how good you are at that,” he whined.

You popped off his cock and smiled. “I think it’s perfectly fair with how you use that tongue of yours.”

He chuckled and ran his hands through your hair. You kept your eyes on him as you returned to sucking and licking his hard flesh, and lapped up the beads of fluid leaking from his tip. A high flush coloured his face, and his teeth had a death grip on his lower lip. Heavy-lidded eyes watched you with such adoration your heart fluttered. You ran your hands up his thighs to gently cup his firm sack and give it a small tug.

“Shit, doll! You can’t do that!” he hissed, making you snicker and sending the vibration through him. “Dammit!” His fingers clenched in your hair and tugged your mouth away from him. “Up!” he growled, grabbing your hands to pull you to your feet.

You stood between his spread thighs and admired him. Chest heaving, eyes bright, a light sheen to his skin. The hard length jutting toward you, you couldn’t help but stroke with gentle fingers. “You’re so pretty.”

He rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”

“I will not.” You playfully smack his thigh. “And you are. Looking at you like this, all hard and naked and sexy and mine gives me butterflies.”

“Butterflies?” Steve arched a brow as he took you by the waist and pulled you closer. “They dancin’ in your belly, baby?” He placed a kiss on your collarbone before skimming his lips over your shoulder. His hands slid around to grab your ass, bringing you closer, kneading and squeezing your flesh before sinking farther around. His middle finger snuck between your cheeks to press against the silver, red, and blue disk.

“Steve!” you gasped, arching forward.

He chuckled darkly, then released you to reach for the condom on the counter. You drew back a little to both give him room and watch as he rolled the latex down his thick shaft. There just was nothing as hot as watching one of your two boys touch themselves. Unless it was getting fucked while watching the other stroke his cock as it was happening.

“Turn around.”

Your head snapped up at the sharp command. Steve was looking at you with what you lovingly teased was his “captain” face, all stern brows and clenched jaw. “Steve?”

“Turn… around.”

You blinked but did as told, watching him over your shoulder as he shifted on his stool. Then his hands were stroking over you, and you closed your eyes at the incredible sensation of his strong fingers petting your flesh.

“This is pretty. Beautiful. Gorgeous.” He grasped your waist and drew you back against him where he could run his lips and teeth and tongue over your skin. “So damn sexy. I’m gonna have that pussy, baby girl. Fuck you real nice with that plug making you so tight. Then cause you got it started and all, I’m gonna have that ass.” One hand skimmed over your bottom to snake between your thighs and brushed your wet lips. “You like that idea, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you sighed, rocking into his hand.

He hummed a happy sound that made you shiver in excitement. “Such a good girl.” Then his hand was gone, and it was pressing firmly into your low back. “Bend over, just a little. That’s it. Arch your back. So fucking sexy.” He skimmed his fingers down your spine and made you moan. “Such a pretty sound. Sit back now.” You lowered to his lap and whined with the press of his fat cock against your core. “That’s right, baby. You want it; you take it.”

You shook as he filled you, stretching tight walls in utter bliss, spearing straight through until he bottomed out, pressing almost painfully into your cervix. “Oh, crap, Steve!”

“Shh.” One hand settled on your abdomen, and the other closed over your breast. “I got you. Nice and slow now.”

The flex of his fingers into the flesh above you mound set your hips in motion as you braced both hands on his thighs. Your back was deeply arched, and you lifted one foot to brace against the rung of his stool.

“There you go, darlin’. That’s it. Take that cock like a good girl. Fuck yourself on it.” He breathed every word against your ear while his hands flexed and massaged your breast and belly. “You feel so good, baby doll. So tight and warm.”

He drew you back and down, helping you slide on his thick length, moving barely inches on him, but it felt like heaven. You tried to speed up, but he wouldn’t let you, and soon the hand holding your breast was wrapped around your throat.

“Nuh uh, love. You wanted me to take a break, so let’s take a break. Slow and steady, let it build. Let the burn smoulder into flames.”

“Fuck, Steve,” you whimpered as your ass connected with his body every time you landed in his lap. “You feel so good.”

He used his thumb to turn your face and capture your lips. The sweep of his tongue over your lips was as slow as the glide of his cock inside you. You whimpered and parted your lips, giving him access, then met his tongue when it delved inside. The sensual glide made you sigh, and your walls flex around him. Steve growled in pleasure, his thumb caressing your face.

There was a pool of lava building in your belly. It bubbled and rolled, growing hotter every time you settled into his lap. Every time his crown kissed your womb and the plug shifted to accommodate his girth. You sucked his tongue in time with the rolling of your hips, the action beginning to take a toll on your thighs. They quivered and shook, and you felt Steve’s hand on your belly slide down and sink between your legs. His finger delved between your wet lips and found with ease your swollen clit. He rubbed it in gentle circles, forcing the bubbling pool in your belly to simmer hotter and hotter.

He sucked on your tongue, then released it to gently worry your lip with his teeth while you panted and moaned, finally able to increase your speed. Thick and hard and long, you slid him through your clenching core, head back and voice breaking on continuous whimpers. It had been too many days since you last felt him, and you vowed you weren’t letting him get away with obsessing over a painting again.

“Steve. Steve, please!”

He chuckled and stroked your throat. “You’re so close, sweetheart. You’re practically strangling my dick. You just gotta let go.”

You panted for breath, shaking and burning, desperate for the sweet bliss of release you knew was just out of reach. Then three fingers pressed between your lips, spreading them apart so he could get direct, unrestricted access to your bundle of nerves. His middle finger stroked you gently, petting and playing until he dragged you down hard on his lap, sending sensation singing up your spine from the silver plug. Then he lightly slapped your clit, hitting it with a sharp tap.

Your breath caught, your muscles seized, the pressure in your belly exploded outward, sending fire singing through your blood and searing your nerves when the pleasure, sweet and wonderful, blew through you. A sob made you shake, and a moan soon followed as you melted back into Steve.

“There you go. There you are. Fuck you feel so good, baby,” Steve murmured against your ear. “Milking my cock so nicely.” He kept stroking you, petting your clit, driving your orgasm onward.

Another quiet sob broke the silence. “Steve.”

His arms went around you, holding you tightly, taking the pressure from your shaking legs. Still thick and hard inside you, you felt stuffed so full it was hard to catch your breath. Your heart pounded, sending pleasure sliding through your body with each strong beat. He let you rest for a moment, his lips skimming over your shoulder and throat.

When you seemed to have caught your breath, his hand slipped to your hips; his lips pressed to your nape, then he gently pushed you to your feet, sliding you off his cock and making you moan at its loss.

Steve chuckled softly and patted your ass. “I want you to return to the side of the lounge chair, grasp the arm, and bend over.”

His fingers caressed the curve of your bottom as you walked, shakily, toward the lounger he’d dragged you out of. The arm was padded but narrow, the chair one of heavy metal that would - and had - stood up to vigorous activity before. When you reached it and bent down to grasp the arm, you quivered in anticipation. Steve was your ass man, and you’d grown far more comfortable with it, to the point you’d taken to initiating anal when the mood struck - or you wanted to drive Steve mad. The latter proved true when he gave a pained groan.

You looked at him over your shoulder, hollowed your spine, and wiggled your bottom. “I’m waiting.”

“You’re so bad, darlin’.” He crossed the room with a small bottle in his hand using a stomping stride that set his cock bobbing. It made your heart skip. He came to a stop behind you, eyes on your ass, admiring, his smile smug. “Damn, that is so fucking sexy.”

He reached out and played with the plug, tugging on it, drawing it back, so the bulbous middle pulled against your ring of muscle. You groaned, the pleasure rippling up your spine with his actions. “Steve. Don’t tease.”

“You started it,” he snickered. “I was minding my own business.” He pulled the silver cylinder all the way out and set it to the side. “Working on my painting.” The lid snapped open on the lube. “Then you come in in those tight fucking shorts,” the lid snapped shut and cold wet fingers began to slide over you, “and rudely start eating that popsicle.”

“Rudely?” you giggled, glancing back at him. He was coating his condom wrapped cock in lube, and the image had heat flashing over your skin.

He shot you a look full of exasperation. “Baby, you sucked that popsicle like it was my dick, and you can’t deny it.”

You giggled but didn’t argue when his fingers delved into your hole. “Steve!”

“So you’re gonna take what I give you when I give it to you for being the world’s biggest tease.”

Suddenly something much fatter than his fingers pressed against your tight opening and you forced your body to relax as he slipped past your resistance. He went slowly, murmuring soft encouragement, his fingers lightly stroking your spine and over your sacrum to help you relax until he was seated. He bent over you, letting you grow used to the full feeling. Big hands, firm but gentle, skimmed your ribs and waist, stroked your hips and thighs, lifted and landed tenderly on your shoulders to slide down your arms.

“You feel so good, baby doll. So tight. You’re such an amazing woman.” His words murmured against your shoulder made your heart flutter and your body clench. His tender touched moved around to cup your swinging breasts, lift and squeeze them, and roll your nipples.

“God, Steve,” you whimpered, so aroused.

“I got you, sweetheart,” he whispered, nipping his teeth into your shoulder. He began to move, slide his hips back, and you shook from the intensity of the sensation.

“Oh, fuck!” you squealed.

Steve chuckled wickedly as he stood tall and gripped your cheeks in his big hands, likely watching himself appear and disappear with the pistoning of his hips. You clenched the arm of the chair and gave a sharp moan, a high pitched whine, the pleasure seeming to streak up your spine with every sharp jerk of his hips.

He groaned, and his hands tightened on your ass. “Fuck, baby!”

You glanced at him and found his head thrown back, mouth open, sweat beading on his brow and just beginning to run down his chest.  He looked so good, so sexy, and he was all yours.

“Steve.” He opened his eyes and then he was reaching for you, drawing you up, pulling you back, his hands sliding up your belly to bring you closer. It arched your spine deeply, but what discomfort came with the position was erased with every short roll of his hips. So much pleasure poured through your belly and spine it brought tears to your eyes.

“You're so beautiful,” he whispered, his lips skimming your cheek. “I love you so much.”

“Steve.” You reached back, curling your arm around his neck. “Love you.”

He held you tightly, giving short, sharp pulses of his hips, driving his cock deep, making you see stars. You couldn’t look away from his face, finding the look of lust and love so beautiful. His teeth nipped into your lower lip, then his mouth closed over yours, kissing you deeply as his hands tightened. It wouldn’t be the first time either of the boys left small bruises, and while it often made them feel guilty, you didn’t mind. The little badges just reminded you of the fun you’d had.

But when a third and then fourth hand joined the two already touching you, you yelped and jerked your head down only to find Bucky sitting smirking on the lounge chair. Steve’s hips never slowed, both of you far too close to your ends to stop now, but he did chuckle darkly.

“ _ Moya zvezdochka _ , were you a bad girl to have Stevie lovin’ you so hard?”

Bucky’s hands stroked up and down your thighs, his thumbs grazing your plump mound. “He was obsessing,” you pouted.

“She was terrible in her teasing,” Steve snickered. Bucky arched a curious brow. “There was a popsicle involved.”

Bucky chuckled and leaned forward to nip his teeth into your hip. “Bad, bad girl.”

“He needed a break!” you whined.

Bucky appeared to think about it a moment before nodding. “You have been working pretty hard, punk.”

“Damn right!” you yipped when Bucky’s tongue flicked over your bare flesh. “Oh, fuck, Bucky!” There was too much pleasure, too many sensations, too much excitement. “Steve!”

They exchanged a smug glanced, then Bucky’s fingers were sliding through your wet lips to thrust up into your empty pussy. “You’ve been at this a while. Look how wet you are, dollface. Think I need a taste.”

Bucky buried his face against you, and you clenched a fistful of his hair as his tongue found and worked your swollen clit. Steve’s mouth fell to the side of your throat. He dragged his teeth over your skin and closed them in your flesh.

Your cries rose in pitch and tone, coming with each slap of Steve’s hips against your ass. Bucky’s fingers worked in tandem with his mouth, and the pleasure soared to such heights it left you gasping and sobbing.

Steve growled against your spine, pressed his lips to your ear, and purred, “Come.”

You shrieked as your entire lower half seemed to squeeze tight before shattering, breaking, exploding into a thousand pieces. White hot, it ripped through you, up your spine and out to your limbs. It set you gasping and crying, tugging at Bucky’s hair when he didn’t stop sucking on you. Then Steve tucked his face in your throat, his hips pistoned hard and sent you rocking into Bucky. Steve’s cock swelled thick, and he groaned as he came apart buried deep with a moan of your name.

The two of you stood there shaking while Bucky smirked up at you slowly recovering. Then Steve drew away, making you both moan, and turned you enough to kiss you softly and gently before lowering you to Bucky’s lap. "That was perfect, sweetheart. Exactly what I needed," Steve smiled before wandering out to clean up.

Bucky chuckled at your blissed-out state and stripped the shirt over his head. It was a black t-shirt, old and thin, so you didn’t scold him when he used it to wipe his face and clean you up.

“You’re home early,” you sighed, resting on his shoulder.

He scooted back in the lounger wearing nothing but jeans and brought you with him to cuddle. You could feel the length of his cock against his zipper when you threw your thigh over his, but you could also see how tired he was from the trip and knew both he and his insistent dick would wait.

“Yeah. And guess what?”

You lifted your head to look at him. “What?”

“I’m done.”

He smirked down at you when you gasped. “What?”

“That was my last film.” He chuckled and kissed you smack on the lips.

“But I thought…”

He shook his head. “I wanted it to be a surprise. I am officially retired. You’re now married to a man who owns a motorcycle shop and was a porn star.”

You froze for a moment, then smiled. “Bucky, I’m so excited for you and us, but there’s something we need to talk about before Steve comes back.”

He frowned, sobering immediately. “What’s wrong?”

The instant care made your heart hurt with how much you loved him. “I think he still feels odd man out. The painting he’s obsessing over? He made a crazy comment about helping support his girl. I set him straight, told him he’s not our roommate but an important piece of our family. He's following his dreams, and if that means we support him for a bit while he gets established, he shouldn't feel like he's less helpful. But before you got home, he stumbled over what to call me. It was like he was reaching for a word he didn’t know.”

Bucky sighed and rested his forehead against yours. “I was worried about that. I wondered if the career change and the volatility of the art world would stress him out. And I know he stumbles with calling you his girlfriend. It’s not enough when the feelings are so much more than that.”

“I know. Bucky?” You peered up at him, worrying your lip between your teeth. “I… I want… but I don’t want to hurt you…”

He cupped your cheek and smiled as he rolled, so you were pressed into the lounger. “Do you want to marry Stevie?”

Tears pricked your eyes at his intuitiveness, and you nodded. “Yes. I know it won’t technically be legal, but I want him to have a ring. I want him to call me his wife. I want that certainty, that importance placed on our relationship. Would it weird you out if I had two husbands?”

“ _ Moya zvezdochka _ , stop talking foolish.” He lowered his head and took your mouth in a searing kiss that left behind a promise of passion to come later. “I’ve only been waiting for one of you to bring it up.”

You sighed and curled up with him, naked and sleepy, your heart settled. “Guess it’s our turn to conspire behind his back, rather than you and him conspiring behind mine.”

He chuckled softly and stroked his fingers up and down your spine. “I’ll talk to him about the money stuff. We’re good. Better than good. He doesn’t need the added stress.”

“I know that, but he moved in here. He came to us. I’m wondering… if he still feels like he inserted himself into our marriage.” Again you bit your lip in worry.

“You think we need to find a place that is a new start for all three of us?”

“Well,” you sighed and snuggled deeper. “This place isn’t big enough if we want to have kids someday.”

His fingers froze then began to sweep your spine again gently. “Have a nap, darlin’. We’ll discuss all these things with Steve over dinner later.”

“Okay, Bucky. I’m glad you’re home.” With a gentle sigh, you went to sleep, and a few seconds later, Bucky followed.

***

Steve returned a few minutes later, still naked, but packing a warm wet rag, only to stop and smile. He’d been able to tell from the moment Bucky walked through the door the man was exhausted, but he was also done. He’d likely told Y/N he was now officially retired, and they’d already made dinner reservations for later tonight to celebrate wanting it to be a surprise.

Steve watched them sleep, Y/N still nude curled over Bucky, now shirtless and snoring softly. It swelled his heart. His brother was home, and they’d taken care of their girl together. It was right. It was perfect. It was beautiful.

He headed across the room to step back into his discarded jeans and tug on his shirt before returning to the painting that mocked him. But when he set his stool down, his eye wasn’t caught by the canvas. It was captured by the play of light and shadows over Y/N and Bucky. The way it shifted and moved with every breath.

Inspiration struck him, sudden and violent. He stripped the canvas from his easel, careful not to wake his sleeping subjects and propped up a fresh one.

Then he reached for the charcoal.

-The End-

****  
  



	7. An Unconventional Engagement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve finally asks you to marry him. It doesn't go quite as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to @curiositywillbethedeathofme for your support through Coffee Updates, which brought you this update. You're a peach!
> 
> Warnings: Smut, smut, and filth. NSFW (18+). Swearing.

* * *

 

As per the norm, when Steve got around to asking you to marry him, it wasn't over dinner at a fancy restaurant, or in any way romantic. Still, in its own wild, screwed up way it was perfect.

The night after Bucky retired, you'd all gone out for dinner and had an open, honest, and very candid conversation about your relationship. It was then that Steve had come clean about the niggling worries he _knew_ were nothing but couldn't stop fretting over. 

Everything you suspected came bubbling out over the appetizers. All his fears and feelings of inadequacy were greater than you'd suspected. 

How he wanted to feel he was contributing to the household, not just holding space. How he struggled to label your relationship. 

It broke your heart to hear some of it, and all the assurances in the world from you and Bucky hadn't worked as well as when you'd called up Natasha in the middle of dinner and asked for the name of her realtor. It was time to buy a house together, one that gave everyone what they needed.

Of course, coordinating three people with very different schedules to view a house was almost a full-time job, but you managed, and after a few weeks of looking, you found the perfect place.

A three-car garage for Bucky, an enormous sunroom for Steve, and a gourmet kitchen for you. Then there was the pool and hot tub, along with the master bedroom that not only fit the giant custom bed - a housewarming gift from Tony and Pepper - but it had a walk-in closet that could fit three peoples wardrobes. Finally, you would _live_ together instead of it looking like Steve roomed with you.

It wasn't until you started packing that you realized how unfair you'd been to Steve. He truly had been the odd man out without you ever meaning to make him feel that way. Almost all his things had been in a room apart, some of them even stored in boxes still. He'd never said anything, and you felt lower than a dog when you found them.

High stress was your life for a few weeks as you sold your house, requiring you to kick Steve out every time there was a showing. As he was working like a mad man for his show, his artist block officially gone, his temper frayed easily.

After a few days of him snapping at you, you finally informed the realtor she'd have to show the house around him. 

It only took one of those for him to get over himself. Apparently, the lady asked if he came with the house. He hadn't liked the experience. 

You thought it was hilarious. 

Thankfully the house sold quickly and then you were moving. As you had no desire to move yourself, you hired a company to move most of it for you; to Bucky and Steve's dismay. 

They grumbled that they could have rented a truck. You sweetly replied as you had plans to christen more than one room of the new house the first night, they should welcome the help.

All-day as you'd directed movers and talked with utility people they'd watched you like wolves eyeing a juicy sheep until you'd grown twitchy with the attention and given them both jobs. Steve was lining the shelves in your kitchen, while Bucky was putting the bedroom together.

It kept them out of your hair long enough to see the movers out and finish up with the TV guy. Both your boys loved their football, and you'd worked in a little surprise for the room they'd claimed "The Man Cave."

You were standing smirking at the wall when Bucky found you. 

"Holy fuck! Steve!" he bellowed, causing running footsteps to pound down the hall.

"What's all the shout- holy fuck!" 

"That's what I said!" Bucky laughed. "Christ, babe! Look at the size of that TV!"

You giggled, happy to have pulled off your surprise. "You guys like it?"

"It's gotta be seventy inches!" Steve squealed.

"Maybe now you can leave the TV in my kitchen alone on game day?" you teased, poking Bucky in the ribs.

"No promises," they said together.

You laughed and wrapped your arms around Steve when he sidled over to hug you, but neither could take their eyes off the TV.

It made you snicker, "Should I leave you three _alone_?"

Both turned their wolf eyes back on you. "I think you should take your clothes off and c'mere," Bucky murmured.

"I think we should wait until after the pizza is delivered as I have little desire to reenact one of your movies," you quipped.

"Excuse me? I never filmed such a clichė!" Steve huffed, his nose up in the air like some snooty socialite.

"That's 'cause I paved your way, punk!" Bucky smirked, giving Steve a shove. "Besides, only one of us has to be clothed to get the pizza."

"Like you two could keep your clothes on if mine come off." Too bad Steve was already tugging your shirt out of your jeans. Jeans Bucky happened to be undoing.

You lifted your arms over your head as Buck dropped to his knees, your pants going down with him.

"Baby," Bucky chuckled. "You takin' a page out of Stevie's book? No underwear?"

"Didn't realize until this morning I packed all the clean ones." Your hand flew to his hair when his nose brushed over your mound. 

"Ain't that just our luck?" Steve chuckled undoing your bra and tossing it aside. 

His hands cupped your breasts as Bucky worked your pants off your feet. "You're sure puttin' up a fight, _moya zvezdochka_ , he chuckled. 

You smirked even as he lifted your thigh to his shoulder. "Why would I fight?"

Steve laughed and plucked your nipples. "Why indeed?"

"So," you moaned as Bucky wasted no time thrusting his tongue between your thighs. "Who's getting the grub?"

They both growled at you when the doorbell rang.

"How the hell…?" Steve grumbled, releasing you to stomp out of the room.

You didn't bother to explain you could see the webpage that tracked the delivery driver on your laptop, not when Bucky was sucking and pulling on your lips like they were candy. "Fuck…" you whined before you were tumbling backwards into the pile of couch cushions yet to be put on the couch. 

Bucky didn't even lose his connection, only laughed darkly and continued to have his way. More than halfway there, you gripped his hair and closed your eyes, your hips rising to grind against his face. 

" _Kotenok_ ," he purred. "So eager." 

"God, Bucky! Please!" You arched up, able to feel him smile against your slick flesh. 

"Yes, beg for it," he snickered, fingers dancing around your opening.

"Barnes!" you whined as his mouth returned to tugging on your clit. 

Then his fingers parted your walls and left you trembling as he began a torturously slow thrust of the digits through your slick channel. You squealed when he curled them upward and jerked with the sensation, sweet bolts of bliss sliding through your veins making you moan.

The gentle stroke and press, twist of digits, and feather-light licks brought you to the brink where Bucky kept you suspended for ages, never quite tipping you over. 

"You're so naughty, baby, keeping us on edge all day. Putting such thoughts in our heads. You know you're going to have to make it up to us," Bucky purred, backing away, leaving you an aching, burning mess.

"Buck, no," you pouted, but he was already rocking back on his toes and rising to his feet. 

The black tank top came off before he was even standing, and landed in the branches of your ficus. You would scold him, but the view of rippling abs, swollen pecs, and flexing arms were too good to turn away from. 

He had more hair than before, no longer waxing his chest and you found you liked the coarse smattering and how it felt beneath your hands or against your skin. Big hands fought open his jeans, soon discarded and kicked to the side, followed by boxer briefs that clung to thick thighs. His heavy cock bounced with its freedom, drawing your attention to the patch of neatly groomed hair. If they wanted you waxed, they kept trimmed, that was the deal. You didn’t like a mouthful of hair any more than they did.

"You wanna help me with this, Y/N?" he chuckled, stroking the length of his cock.

You smiled up at him. "I'm happy here. I like watching you touch yourself." There was something primal about a big, thick thighed, muscled man stroking himself that made you wet.

"I know you do, darlin', but I really want you to wrap those pretty lips around me. Be a good girl and c'mere," he coaxed.

You never could resist him and rolled to your knees, but as you crawled across the floor, he backed away. “Bucky, don’t be mean,” you whined. 

“Just lining things up,” he snickered, nodding toward the TV you could see your reflection in. 

You paid it little mind, having been filmed three times now. Never for public consumption, but Steve found out - and then watched - your sex tape with Bucky and wanted to make his own. Then, because it was only fair, they made one with the three of you. 

Preferred viewing material it was not. It embarrassed you to see yourself stretched out, wrecked, begging for it, but of course, Steve and Bucky loved it and coaxed you into watching and reenacting every chance they got. 

Still, it was kind of sexy to see the shadow of yourself reflected in the dark screen when you reached out to wrap your hands around his length and give it a firm, gliding twist that clenched his thighs. 

“Fuck, doll face. Just do it already,” he growled. 

“Since when has the Stamina King become so impatient?” you teased and flicked his tip with your tongue. 

“Always impatient for you, _kotenok,_ ” he purred, stroking your head before taking a good grip on your hair. “Nothing better than watching my cock slide past those pretty lips and down your throat. You’re gonna take it so good for me.” He shooed your hands away to wrap his around the base and rub his tip over your lips, smearing the drop of precum over your mouth. “Filthy girl. Open.”

Your lips parted on their own, a sigh sending warm air singing over his skin as slowly, gently, he fed you his cock. You moaned, shivered, and closed your eyes, willing to let him do whatever he wanted. 

“Well, looks like I get dinner and a show,” Steve snickered from the doorway. 

Bucky didn’t release your hair to allow you to comment, but you could smell the heavenly scent of pizza waft through the room.

“Or you could participate, punk,” he chuckled. 

“Maybe I like the show.” You could hear Steve’s smile. “The pizza guy was sure interested in all the noise.”

You inhaled at the wrong time and choked on Bucky’s cock. He let you pull away, coughing and crying to gasp, “What?” at Steve. 

Steve crossed the room in long strides the minute you started to choke, dropping his half-eaten slice of pizza on top of the boxes. “You okay, Y/N? I didn’t mean to make you choke.” He took hold of your chin and wiped the tears from your cheeks with the hem of his t-shirt.

“That’s fine. What did you say to the pizza guy?” you asked, mortified.

Steve smirked at you, then grinned at Bucky. “There was this one really loud squeal followed by some super sinful moans. The kid was itching for an invite,” he chuckled.

“Don’t you dare!” you huffed, glaring at him as he pulled his shirt over his head. A happy trail of dark blonde hair led to the button on his jeans. 

“You know if she were going to say yes to anyone it would be Thor,” Bucky teased. 

“Bucky!” you gasped. “I would not!”

“After watching you do body shots with him in Vegas, I’m sure he’d gladly accept an invite,” Steve snickered. 

“Not happening,” you huffed. “You two yahoos are all I can handle.”

"Well this yahoo would really like you to go back to handling him right now," Bucky snickered, gently tapping your cheek with his cock.

You rolled your eyes at how corny he was but returned your hand to his shaft for a few long strokes.

"I'm famished," Steve murmured, dropping to his knees to press kisses to your breasts. "Think I need a taste."

He landed on the floor, rolled to his back, and the coordination he and Bucky had - their weird form of sex telepathy - came into play when you were suddenly lifted and repositioned over Steve's face. 

"Fuck, your dripping," came Steve's muffled voice. 

The absurdity of him becoming a sex chatterbox still made you giggle, and you grinned up at Bucky. "He's so mouthy."

"Least he's somewhere he can put it to good use," Bucky teased.

Steve growled and gave Bucky the finger before those big hands were spread over your buttocks, squeezing and rubbing as he brought you down on his tongue. The moan you released was sinful.

"She likes that, Stevie," Bucky chuckled, sliding the head of his cock over your lips, hand back in your hair, guiding his dick down your throat. "Hands behind your back, baby."

A shiver worked its way down your spine, excitement flowing thick like honey in your veins. This was a newer edition to their choice of kink play, binding your hands to put you at their pleasure.  

Of course, it always wound up being your pleasure. There was something about the complete loss of control that made you hot when there was nothing you could do but relax and enjoy. 

Steve growled low in his throat when you flooded his face with a fresh wave of excitement, right before his big hand closed around your crossed wrists.

He pulled, arching your spine. Bucky tugged on your hair until your throat stretched, and you let yourself slide into the pleasure only they could give you. Floating on a sea of bliss, Steve's tongue doing wicked things to your pussy, you opened wide for Bucky to thrust into your mouth, humming and moaning, every inch of you swimming in the heady, unstoppable pleasure. 

"God, baby. Look at you," Bucky whispered, sounding rough. 

You opened your eyes to look at him and smiled around his cock. His eyes were dark, pupils blown, face flushed. When you closed your lips and sucked hard, he snarled and latched his hand around your throat. "Woman!"

Bucky jerked away and left you gasping. "Problem?"

"I know what you're doing, Y/N, trying to make me lose it. Now," he smacked his cock on your cheek with gentle taps. "Behave."

You pouted and yelped when Steve slapped your ass. "He wants to watch you come with his cock in your mouth before he fills this cunt, sweetheart." Steve tugged on your arms and ran his tongue the length of your slit.

It felt good, so good. Waves of pleasure swirling in your belly. The slow stroke of his tongue through your folds before Steve’s lips closed around your bundle of nerves gave you shivers. The gentle sucking sent electric shocks through your veins, and you moaned. How many times had you felt such pleasure and yet still it was fresh and new and drugging, warping your mind and locking you down until nothing mattered but _hot_ and _wet_ and the feel of rough hands skimming, squeezing, rubbing over your skin. 

You rolled your hips into his face, desperate for more, faster, harder, but he pulled on your wrists until your fingertips brushed his belly, arching you gracefully, keeping you still while his tongue worked circles into your swollen lips. 

“Fuck, Steve. You’ve got her practically purring. Isn’t that right, _kotenok_?” Bucky murmured, rubbing his cock on your bottom lip. 

“Mmm,” came out more moan than agreement. “Please, Stevie.”

A rumble vibrated between your legs, sending shockwaves through your core. You gasped, and Steve groaned when your walls clenched and sent a fresh rush of fluid to drench his tongue. 

“So pretty, _moya zvezdochka,_ ” Bucky hummed, painting your lips with the pearl beading at his tip. “Open.”

Already parted, you opened your lips wider and sighed happily when he fed his cock between them. Another pulse of pleasure ran through your walls. Steve hissed a muffled _fuck_ and shifted restlessly beneath you. 

“Make her come, Stevie. Make our girl come, and we’ll switch.” Bucky gave a lazy thrust as you massaged his shaft with your tongue. “You should see him, baby. Hard and dripping. He’s making an absolute mess of himself. You’ll have to lick it up for him. Clean all that off his abs. Do you like that idea, darling? You want to clean Stevie up?”

You moaned; the idea more than a little enticing. Your boys had beautiful bodies. Getting an opportunity to put your mouth on them was never a chore.

“Good girl,” Bucky whispered, one hand stroking through your hair. You shivered when the other closed lightly around your throat. “Fuck you take it so good, baby. I can feel my dick in your throat.” His fingers squeezed and made you rasp for air, shaking with a potent mix of lust and love. “You should see her eyes, Steve. So blissed out. She’s close, aren’t you, baby?”

You could only whimper, unable to move, body thrumming, every muscle aching with the need to come. Steve swept his tongue over you in rapid licks, catching you from tip to tail, making you crazy with how badly you wanted him to focus. You looked up at Bucky pleadingly. 

“Is he torturing you, sweetheart? Do you need Stevie to put his tongue on that little clit?”

 _Jesus._ Would the dirty way he talked to you ever _not_ turn you on? You gave a short jerk of your head, mouth too full to move more than an inch. 

Sweat was beading on Bucky’s forehead, causing his hair to stick and curl when he slowly began to fuck your mouth. Without him needing to say anything, Steve switched to center his attention at the top of your pussy, sucking and flicking and paying your sensitive bundle all the attention you could want. 

Your lashes fluttered, eyes closing, body lost to heat and want, to the mouth focused between your thighs and the slick slide of the thick shaft between your sucking lips. 

Your heart pounded, wave upon wave of sensual bliss singing in your veins as they took you up, higher and higher. Heat pooled. Lightning wicked. Fireworks burst. You came brutally hard, walls constricting around nothing, thighs shaking, voice cracking as tears flowed freely when you sobbed your pleasure. 

Broken like dropped china, they held you there, merciless. Steve’s face buried deep in your cunt, slick tongue lapping languidly over your swollen folds, drinking all you had to offer, while Bucky stood over you, hand tight in your hair, cock shoved down your throat, watching you cry in ecstasy and softly stroking your flesh. 

“Beautiful.”

An aftershock ran through you. Finally, after years of self-hate and loathing your body, you felt it when Bucky looked at you like that. You felt it with every touch of Steve’s hands and the softness of his smile. It didn’t matter that you had stretch marks on your breasts and thighs or more junk in your trunk than you’d like. They _loved_ every bit of you. To them, you were beautiful. With them, you felt it. 

Bucky pulled away and cupped your chin, drawing you up on your knees so Steve could slide out from under you. “What’s that look for?”

“Nothing,” you smiled, leaning back against Steve when he wrapped his arms around you and placed little pecking kisses on your shoulder. 

“Gotta be something, sweetheart,” he murmured, nibbling on your ear. 

You blushed and sucked Bucky’s thumb when it slipped over your lip. “You both make me feel good about myself. I love you guys so much.”

Steve’s eyes watered, and he turned his face into your throat. “Love you too,” he whispered hoarsely, as you stroked his arm. 

“You’re so good to us, baby,” Bucky murmured as he bent to press a kiss on your lips. “Love you.”

You hummed with contentment, adoring the attention when Bucky nipped his teeth into your lip and Steve lightly stroked his fingers over your waist and up to cup your breasts.

"How we playin' this, Stevie?" Bucky asked around soft, delicate kisses, teasing ones that never quite satisfied.

"No lube in here… yet." 

You could feel Steve's smile and giggled. "Deviant."

"For my best girl? Always." 

He bit down on your shoulder, sending a shudder through you. They both knew every place that could bring you pleasure and used them to play your body like an instrument.

Steve's hands cupped and weighed your breasts even as Bucky's fingers pulled and rolled your nipples. "I think I want her mouth, Buck."

"Yeah, pal?" Bucky grinned as you groaned, his fingers leaving your nipples to glide over your shoulders and cup your face. "What you think, babe? What's our _kotenok_ want? You wanna suck Steve's dick while riding mine?"

Already a little pleasure drunk with how Steve's hands had taken over the manipulation of your nipples, all you could do was sigh and nod aware that his words were making you extremely wet.

"I bet you're just soaked after that nice tongue fucking. You came so hard, baby."

"Bucky," you whimpered.

He had that look in his eye, the one that said his blood was up, he was well past horny and had dove headlong into fucking _hot_. It meant he was going to do things, say things, lead with an iron fist, and you quaked when Steve chuckled darkly and bit your ear. 

"Look what you did, baby girl. You've got Buck all worked up. He's gonna fuck you so good."

"You two are gonna be the death of me," you moaned, arching into Steve's teasing hands.

"Or maybe we'll just keep taking you to heaven," Bucky snickered and stepped back, his fingers skimming your chin before he turned and swept everything off the ottoman. 

A big thing in dark brown microfiber, it was square, wide enough to fit your tall men, and more than once proven its sturdiness when holding up beneath the vigorous use of two retired pornstars. It also didn't hurt the thing was Scotchgarded within an inch of its life and virtually stain proof.

Steve was already lifting you to your feet and gliding his hands all over your skin. When he slipped one between your legs and ran his fingers through your wet heat, he whistled in appreciation. "Fuck, so juicy."

He brought glistening fingers to your lips, and you sucked them clean, watching Bucky watch you swirl your tongue around Steve's digits obscenely. 

When you finished, you reached back to curl your arm around Steve's neck and pulled him down. His mouth was open when you met it, eagerly pressing your tongue to his. His lips slanted, sealing you together for a toe-curling kiss that shared the flavour of you back and forth until you both moaned and Steve's hands tightened.

" _Moya zvezdochka."_

Bucky's purr shivered your insides as you slowly pulled back from Steve, sucking his tongue right to the tip.

"Fuckin' dirty girl," Steve chuckled, giving your ass a smack that sent you toward Bucky.

Bucky crooked his fingers. “C’mere, dollface.” 

You climbed into his lap with a smile, running your hands over his stomach and chest. Coarse hair tickled your skin and made you hum as you swept your fingers over his perky little nipples. Slowly, you rocked on him, sliding slick folds along his hard shaft.

After years of being together, finally, _finally_ , you'd ditched the condoms, your boys proudly clean and excited about bare skin, but you were still on your birth control. What with the move and Bucky's new business venture, the timing was wrong. And with the idea of possibly, maybe - for the love of God if he _ever_ asked you - marrying Steve in a pretty ceremony you were already mentally planning and dreaming about, you wanted to wait just a little longer to begin trying.

But practice makes perfect.

"Mmm, baby. You're tryin' my patience with all this teasing," Bucky warned.

You only smirked and bent over to run open-mouthed kisses over his chest. Firm, strong hands skimmed lightly down your spine, Steve petting in that way he liked. He enjoyed the texture of your skin, and he said the way your body flushed with pleasure was his favourite thing. He used his fingers like brushes, painting the shadows and colours that patterned your skin.

Bucky's hands were flexing at your hips, and when he groaned, you lifted enough to lean forward and worry his lip with your teeth. 

"What do you want, Buck?"

"I want you to put that cunt to good use," he purred, sliding you over him.

"And what do you want me to do once you stuff it full?" you asked, sweetly batting your lashes.

"Clean Steve up with your tongue. Then you're gonna let us have you any way we want."

You shivered, incredibly turned on. "Yes… soldier."

Steve inhaled sharply, going still where he was pressed to your back. "Don't tease me, darlin'."

"Who's teasing," you smile seductively over your shoulder, "Captain."

"Fuck me…" Steve whispered, his pupils blowing out. Pink worked from his cheeks to his ears. "Fuck, yes."

You laughed, sultry and wild and rolled your hips. 

Bucky growled and smacked your ass. “ _Davay, zhenshchina,_ ” he muttered yanking you up. 

“Get on with it?” you purred, grasping and stroking the thick rod now slick and sloppy between his thighs, holding him poised at your opening. “ _Ya gotov otvechat_.”

“I can’t take it,” Steve groaned, his hand wrapping under your chin to tilt your head all the way back so he could plant a searing kiss on your lips. The other he used on your shoulder to press you gently but firmly downward, slowly forcing you to take Bucky in, let his broad crown breach your walls. 

“You’ve done it now, Y/N. You know what it does to Steve when you roleplay that shit,” Bucky laughed. 

Steve let you go when your hips landed on Bucky’s, allowing you to draw a ragged breath and look at Bucky. He appeared relaxed, hands soft on your hips, but the bulge of his pecs and the strain you could see in the cords of his neck gave him away as did the tiny ring of blue around his enormous pupils. 

“Like you don’t, Sarge?” you sassed.

“Oh, you know I do, sweetheart, but I’m not the one who gets fuckin’ jacked when you call him Captain.”

Steve came around the side of the ottoman; hand wrapped firmly around his cock. When you looked up at his face, your breath caught. In that instant, you could almost believe he was the Captain you named him. Jaw set and eyes hard, he had the look of _command_ about him even as sweat had his hair sticking to his forehead. 

“Agent,” he purred, a little softness coming to his eyes when he cupped your chin. “You’ve got your mission. Get on with it.”

Bucky groaned, and a smirk curled his lips when the order caused your womb to somersault and walls to clench tightly on his cock. “Fuck! She likes that, Steve.”

“Fuck you, Barnes,” you grumbled. 

He thrust up. “Oh, we are.”

“God damned corn dog,” you muttered, trying not to gasp and moan with how amazing he felt flexing beneath you. 

Steve’s grip on your chin tightened and drew your face around. “The sergeant gave you an order, Agent. Get on with it.”

Your breath hitched, unable to hide how aroused you were when you soaked Bucky a second time. A desperate whine fled your throat as you began to move, rolling your hips in slow circles. Bucky’s hands clamped tight, drawing you forward. There would be bruises later, ten little fingertip ones you would smirk at in the shower. 

Steve drew you closer to him by the chin, his free hand cupping and playing with your breast as he led you to the lines that glistened on his abs, tacky as what liquid had leaked from his cock began to dry. 

You glanced up at him, held his gaze as long as possible, and set your open mouth on him, licking in time to the rocking of your hips, cleaning him up. He hummed approval, hand shifting to slide through your hair. 

Unlike Bucky who’s chest and torso had a relatively uniform smattering of coarse dark hair all over, Steve’s dark blonde swept across his pecs and thinned into a trail that ran from his belly button to his cock like a treasure trail, making it easy to slide your tongue over smooth flesh. His muscles clenched with almost every flick until you pressed the flat of your tongue to him and licked straight to his opposite hipbone. 

“Fuck!” hissed from behind clenched teeth and made you smile as you skimmed your hands up Steve's thighs to grab him by the ass and keep him in place. He may be calling the shots, but you knew how much he loved it when you made him wait. Made him earn your mouth on his dick. 

While sucking a hickey into the sensitive flesh along his Adonis belt, you dropped your attention to Bucky, watching him watch you torment Steve. 

“Such a bad girl,” he murmured, grin wide. He jerked you forward, driving his cock deep, forcing a gasp to explode from your lips and ruining the mark you were leaving on Steve. 

“Rude!” you huffed. 

“I wanna watch you suck Steve’s dick.” He thrust up and made you moan. “You’re the one playin’.”

“I like playing,” you grumbled, mentally vowing revenge.

“Baby,” Steve groaned, your fingers finding his balls. “Please, baby. Please.”

You threw a smile up at him. “Begging, Captain?”

The softness went right out of his face as he led you by the hair to the head of his cock and tugged your nipple firmly. The jolt made you gasp, giving him the advantage. Your mouth was full before you had a chance to protest. 

Not that you would. 

Instead, you relaxed, gave over, and let them move you. Steve moaned, gently fucking your mouth. He guided you with light touches and soft words. “Fuck, yes, baby so good. Love your tongue, just like that. Suck a little more. Perfect,” he sighed, knuckles brushing your cheek. 

Bucky had his feet planted on the floor, and between the motion of his hands and the rolling of his hips, he had you tumbling toward orgasm with minimal effort. 

Sex thickened the air layered in moans and sighs of pleasure, punctuated by words of praise and compliments, your men never lax in telling you how good you felt to them. With your mouth full, saliva dripping from the corner of your lips, you used your hands to touch and tug, sliding one over Bucky’s chest to lightly pluck his nipples or scratch your nails over his heart. For Steve, you focused on the tight sack, fondling tenderly and sliding a finger beneath and behind to rub the pad of your finger over his perineum. 

“You do that so good, darlin’,” he groaned, putting pressure on your head, urging you to take him deeper, right down your throat. 

“Shit!” Bucky hissed. “Every time you deep throat her, she clenches. You gonna come, baby? I’m balls deep, _moya zvezdochka._ Want to feel you soak my dick and squeeze it real tight.” 

Your skin was on fire, little infernos that burst and burned and spread outward consuming everything in its path. When the touch came, fingers rubbing firmly over your clit, you were nose deep against Steve. The orgasm shocked through you, and you convulsed, curling into Steve and nearly gagging yourself. Unable to breathe, it rushed through you in oxygen-starved ecstasy, better than any breath play they’d ever teased you with. 

It left you seeing stars, dragging in air when you remembered you had a nose, tears streaming down your face, body shaking, and silently screaming. 

“Oh, fuck…” they murmured together, Steve letting you pull away so you could recover, still sucking down giant lungfuls of air.

When you could function enough to open your eyes, you blinked against dancing dark spots. “Wow.”

Bucky ran his hands up and down your sides, his brow furrowed in concern. “You okay, dollface? That was a big one.”

You smiled, a lazy cat full of catnip, a little high and seeing colours that spun and whirled, exquisite pleasure pounding in your veins. “So good,” you rasped, voice raw and rough. You felt fucking incredible and reached for Steve as you began to move on Bucky, determined to make them feel at least half as good as you did. 

“Shit!” Bucky hissed, arching underneath you as you began to circle your hips. 

Steve released a high pitched whine that thrilled you. “Fuck, baby!”

You laughed at them both, taking over the moment with little hope of being merciful. You used both hands on Steve, stroking and twisting, sucking hard, taking him deep, altering your rhythm, so he never knew what was coming next. Both his hands were clenched in your hair, and his thighs quaked every time you pulled back, sucking with enough force to have him swearing the air blue. 

Bucky was harder. Your Stamina King could go the distance, a tough nut to crack, but Natasha 'd recently sent you a twitter thread that you wanted to try. She’d guaranteed it could break even the most experienced porn star. 

Time to find out for yourself. 

You started slow, grinding down on him, using your waist to roll your hips and spell the word coconut. The C had him shaking, his hands tight on your thighs. 

“Fuck me!” he groaned when you began the O, rolling your pelvis over him, the pressure on your clit making you pant a little and flutter your tongue against Steve. 

“Jesus, what the hell are you doing, Y/N?” Steve groaned, tugging on your hair. 

The second C made your thighs quake. Natasha hadn’t said anything about how good it would feel to you.

“Oh, my God!” Bucky bellowed, hands sliding around to grab your ass. “It’s that coconut thing from twitter!”

You laughed, but it was breathy and soft, not as sultry as you would have liked, the next O making your core flutter. 

“It’s doing crazy things to her mouth,” Steve moaned, hips flexing forward, fucking over your tongue as you began to suck him deep, over and over, hands dropping to play with his sack. 

You ground your pelvis over Bucky’s in the N and moaned around Steve’s cock. 

“Jesus! Fuck! So close,” Bucky gasped. “You’re so tight and wet. Fuck, baby!”

“Christ!” Steve bellowed. “She’s spelling it with her tongue too!”

Were you? You hadn’t meant to, but it was really fucking hard to focus on two things at once and decided to go with it. Steve’s cock was thick and pulsing in your mouth, and you knew it was only a matter of seconds before he lost his shit. 

As you began the slow curve of the U, making the same shape with your tongue and sucking hard, you felt your second orgasm begin to break, flexing and clamping around Bucky, making you shake and moan and whimper as you forced your body to complete the move and shift to the T.

Steve lost it on the downward stroke of your mouth, Bucky with the first pull of the T and jacked up hard, his cock pulsing deliciously inside you, a stream of Russian pouring from his lips.

But it was Steve you focused on, sucking and swallowing, mouth tight around his cock. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” he swore, his sex-addled mouth taking over as his hands clenched in your hair. “Best fucking mouth. Best fucking body. So fucking perfect. Love you so much. Can’t help it. Just everything. Marry me!”

Time. Stood. Still.

Your eyes popped open. Pulling slowly away, you swallowed the last of his release and looked up to find Steve staring at you in horror. 

Bucky threw his arm over his eyes. “Jesus, punk! We talked about this!”

As white as a ghost, his only colour the blush spreading through his cheeks and darkening his ears, Steve swallowed thickly, the sound a funny croak. “I… I… um…”

“Did you mean it?” you whispered, wondering if he would take it back. 

He released your hair to drop slowly to his knees beside you, still straddling Bucky, feeling his cock soften inside you. “Yeah,” Steve said softly, lightly stroking your cheek. “I love you so damn much, and I want to marry you, call you my wife, and likely confuse the fuck out of people when they can’t figure out who your husband is.”

You smiled, teary-eyed, even as Bucky chuckled. 

“We had a whole plan worked out, something real romantic out by the pool involving flowers and candles and pretty words. I’m sorry I fucked that up, but I’m not sorry I asked. I’ve wanted to for a long time. So, will you marry me, Y/N?”

You launched yourself from Bucky at Steve, sending the two of you toppling to the carpet. “Yes! Hell, yes!”

They both burst out laughing; then Steve was kissing you, touching you, his hands lighting all new fires before he jerked back and jumped to his feet. “Wait here!”

Where the hell were you gonna go? But he ran out of the room leaving you laying on the floor, bewildered but happy as you looked at Bucky, propped on his arm on the ottoman. He rolled off and onto the floor where he came to your side, wrapped his arm around your waist, and kissed you softly. 

“Happy?” he asked, his eyes so soft and full of love. 

“Blissfully,” you smiled. 

Propped up on his elbow on the floor, Bucky let his fingers drift down to draw lazy circles around your belly button. “Maybe after the wedding, we can talk about starting that family?”

“Really?” you whispered. “You’ve been… kind of reluctant whenever I’ve brought it up.”

He shook his head. “Not reluctant. Terrified. What if I’m a shit dad? I didn’t have the best role model growing up.”

You cupped his cheek, understanding suddenly all the times he’d flinched or changed the subject. “Oh, Bucky. You’re going to be a great dad. You’re nothing like your father. You’re a wonderful husband, a great friend, and such a good man. And you’ll have Steve and me to lean on. You know Steve’s dad was great.”

“And your parents raised you, so they were pretty great,” he chuckled. 

You smiled at his sweetness. “Plus you were awesome when Peter stayed with us. You know Tony doesn’t trust his adopted son with just anyone.”

“Teenagers are different than babies,” he murmured. 

You laid your hand over his, flattening the almost tickling fingers to your stomach. “Well, you’ll have nine months to learn all about babies.”

“Oh, my God! Are you pregnant?” Steve’s asked from the open door, his voice two octaves higher than usual. 

You giggled but shook your head. “Discussing the future.”

He bounced excitedly closer, dropped to his knees and stretched out beside you. “You’re ready? When can we start trying? Now? Soon?”

You belted a laugh along with Bucky and cupped Steve’s face. His eyes were so bright and full of excitement. “Does that mean Steve wants to be a daddy?”

A blush came to his face, his whole demeanour softening as his hand joined Bucky’s at your waist. “Yeah. Steve would really like to be a daddy.”

The longing made your heart flip. “Well, the sooner we have the wedding, the better I guess.”

His face lit up; then he was sitting up, pulling you up with him until the three of you were sitting naked in the tv room with the scents of sex and pizza filling the air. A ring box appeared in front of your face. 

“Oh, Steve.” Tears pricked your eyes.

“You gotta open it before you cry, baby,” Bucky snickered. 

You’d blubbered all over when he’d asked too, so you didn’t know why he was surprised you were blubbering now. Still, you took the box from Steve and snapped up the lid. Inside, a white gold band with two blue gems sparkled brightly. It was beautiful, and when you plucked it out, you gave a little sob. The filigree on the band was the same as your ring from Bucky. That was when you realized the one from Steve was made to sit snuggled around the diamond solitaire. 

“How?” you asked, touched and amazed.

Steve took it from you and slipped it on your finger, a perfect fit. “Remember when you thought you lost your ring and then Bucky miraculously found it?”

“You two took it!” you shrieked. “I cried for three days!”

They flinched, and Steve rubbed his thumb over your knuckles. “The jeweller needed it to make the match.”

You looked down at the rings. They symbolized everything you’d hoped for. Now you would be connected to the two loves of your life moving forward, starting a family, living your lives and being happy. 

It was good. It was better than good. It was perfect.

You leaned over and kissed Steve, then repeated the action with Bucky. When their hands began to roam, you laughed and pushed them away. “Food, boys. Food first.” You collected the cardboard boxes and snagged Steve’s half-eaten slice to eat on your way out of the room. 

Steve and Bucky exchanged a look before jumping up to follow your naked behind into the hall. 

“We could eat,” Bucky agreed. 

“Then christen the kitchen,” Steve smirked. 

You glanced back at them and smiled. “My thoughts exactly.”

They each grabbed your ass and hustled you into the kitchen. You laughed the entire way. 


End file.
